Help Me Say Goodbye
by Nataliia
Summary: Alexandra is thrown into a world of violence, intrigue, and vengeance when she is placed in Erik's protection after a brutal murder. Rating includes sex, violence, language. Erik/OC - modern. ALW w/bits of Laroux
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Erik is based mostly on ALW's musical with a splash of Leroux for good measure. I've never read Kay's book so any similarities or differences are purely coincidental.

**Chapter One - Then my world was shattered . . .**

**Oct. 14 – 2:45pm**

Alex glanced at the clock as she handed her final exam to the instructor with a silent cheer of triumph. Fifteen minutes to spare and she was through, done, finished with her degree. Even though it wasn't official yet, she was still glad to no longer be a college student. Now all she needed was an interview and a job. She made a face and turned to gather her things. Business Finance…what an exciting career. Hurrah, be still my beating heart, and all that rot. She had known she needed something marketable and, since she was good with numbers where many others weren't, finance seemed the path to take. With few options, she had jumped into the coursework and was finishing up two semesters early. Now everyone thought she was rocketing towards her dream job in Corporate America. If she was honest with herself, however, she was still that little girl who didn't know what she wanted to be when she grew up. '_No time for fairy tales and wishful thinking, Alexandra Marie Roberts,'_ she scolded herself silently. '_Time to face the real world.'_

Shoving her pencils, mp3 player, and cell phone into her oversized purse, she started digging for her car keys as she made her way to the door. Alex muttered under her breath as the elusive keys evaded her grasp so she did not see the person who had just entered the room. She looked up with a small cry of success just as she bumped into the gentleman standing in the door frame. Before she could apologize, however, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. The description he'd been given was accurate: a bit tall for a girl at 5'7", late 20s with reddish-brown hair that barely brushed the top of her shoulders, pale green eyes that one of the female officers described as "sea foam green," lightly tanned skin with full lips and high cheekbones, slender and athletic but still feminine.

"Miss Alexandra Roberts?" He barely waited for her nod of confirmation before gesturing for her to exit the room and closing the door behind them.

Oh. She recognized the attitude and routine. A police officer. Joy.

"What did Sam do this time, officer?" She sighed in frustration knowing that her brother's antics would prevent her from being too upwardly mobile in her chosen career. No one would trust an accountant whose brother had been arrested several times for computer hacking, electronic and identity theft.

The officer, one she'd not seen before, motioned her to a bench in the courtyard that was half-hidden by a poorly trimmed topiary of a mouse. For some reason, that fleeting thought amused her. Cat and mouse. A small smile curved her lips before she realized she was the mouse in this game. Lovely. Impatiently Alex sat on the hard bench, studying the plain clothes officer as she waited for him to reveal…whatever Sam had done this time. He was slim, fairly tall, and looked to be of Middle Eastern decent. She'd go as far as to say he was attractive with his naturally bronzed skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. Too bad he came only bearing news of more of Sam's follies.

"I'm Detective Da'ud al-Zahir from Homicide, Miss Roberts." He showed her his badge and waited for her nod of acknowledgment before putting it away and continuing. "Do you live at 423C Chickwood Lane with a Samuel Jacob Roberts?"

"Yes, that's my brother. What's going on?" Homicide? This was way out of Sam's league.

"When was the last time you spoke with your brother?" He skillfully evaded the question as he pulled out a small notebook and pen to take notes.

"This morning, before class, why?" He'd never been violent before…or maybe he was on the receiving end. She paled. "He should be calling any minute now, in fact. He always calls after class is released to let me know if he's home or not. Is…is he in some kind of trouble, Detective?"

"When you spoke with him this morning did he seem agitated or nervous?"

"No, but I am. Please, tell me what this is about." Alex's frustration was mounting as the detective dodged her questions again and again. His carefully maintained professional façade was starting to really fray at her nerves as well.

"Miss Roberts, we are not certain of all the facts as of yet, but we believe that your brother interrupted a burglary in your apartment this morning. Evidence suggests there had been a struggle and Mr. Roberts was shot several times. We believe it was a burglary as the house looked pretty ransacked when we arrived on the scene." _There were times he hated this job_, Da'ud thought to himself. _This was one of those times. The poor girl looked devastated, like she knew what he would say next, and yet was hoping she was wrong_. "I'm so terribly sorry but we simply did not get there in time."

"No." Alex was amazed at how calm she sounded, how composed, though deep inside she was being torn apart. Maybe he was talking about the burglar instead of Sam? "No, you're wrong. See…Sam will be calling in a few minutes. Any minute now and you see this is all some terrible mix up, a mistake. Please tell me it's a mistake?"

"He had his driver's license in his wallet and we also verified his identity through finger prints, Miss Roberts. I'm very sorry for your loss; however, if you feel up to it, I need some information from you."

Tears had begun to roll down her face as she struggled to accept the news. Not Sam! He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. Perhaps it was some joke? Maybe Sam had thought to escape his past, establish a new identity. But no, that was impossible. He'd never hurt her like that. The steady but kind gaze of the detective finally shattered the blissfully numb shell she was in and she collapsed into sobs. He was gone. Her brother, her twin, her only remaining family, was gone forever.

Detective al-Zahir gave her a bit of time to collect herself before he sat on the bench beside her. He hated to interrupt her grieving but he needed to continue his questioning before the trail grew any colder.

"Miss Roberts, do you feel up to talking? We need as much information as possible if we're to find the ones responsible."

Alex nodded, taking long, slow breaths to calm down using a meditation technique she learned from her therapist after the deaths of her parents. She had been prone to anxiety attacks and severe bouts of depression but, against the doctors' advice, refused medication. They had settled on meditation to remain calm in upsetting situations, self-defense classes to work through her anger and fear, and cognitive behavioral therapy for the depression. Opening her eyes slowly, she turned to the detective.

"Miss, we need to know the names of anyone your brother might have had business with: friends, co-workers, that sort of thing."

"S…sam was unemployed," Alex took another deep breath when her voice trembled. "He is…was a convicted hacker, Detective, with strict restrictions concerning computers. It makes…made it very hard for him to get a job. Most of his friends were people he had met online, other hackers. After he was forbidden from using a computer, he began meeting three or four of them for lunch every Thursday. You know, one of those 'no shit there I was' types of friendly one-upmanship. I'm afraid don't know their names; Sam never told me and I'm not really sure he knew either. He'd always call them by their computer names." She dug around in her cavernous purse once more and pulled out her wallet, handing him a business card. "Here's the café they go to; one of the waitresses should know them. Other than the people he stole from before his arrest, I don't know of anyone who'd want to hurt him. He wasn't very social, preferring his computers and video games."

Al-Zahir took the card and slipped it into his pocket. He'd have to look into the boy's old case files and see if it holds any clues.

"Do you have somewhere you can stay for a few days? The crime lab hasn't finished looking over your apartment and you really shouldn't be alone right now." At her nod, he offered to drive her to her friend's home which she declined. As polite as he was, she really just wanted to be alone to grieve. "Very well, here. Take my card and if you think of anything that might help, no matter how insignificant you feel it may be, don't hesitate to call me. I'll let you know when the lab is finished with your apartment." With a final pat on her shoulder, the detective made his way out of the university and towards the café.

After he was out of sight, Alex dug her cell from her purse and sent a text to Lizzie Butler, her best friend since grade school. Not wanting to deal with explanations until she arrived, she merely asked if she could stay a few days to decompress from finals. And though Lizzie never really cared for Sam (she felt he should have 'grown out' of his childish computer obsession by now and gotten a job), Alex knew she could count on her for a shoulder, a tub of Ben & Jerry's, and crash space. She had just made it to her car when she heard the chime letting her know she had a text message. _Lizzie must have been on a smoke break when her message went through,_ she thought as she threw her purse into the passenger seat before sitting down. Fastening her seat belt, she pulled up the message.

**You have something we want. Don't be as foolish as Samuel **

Her phone fell from numb fingers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Erik is based mostly on ALW's musical with a splash of Leroux for good measure. ********************************************

**Chapter Two **

**Oct. 15 – 2:00am**

_Erik nodded to his partner and motioned towards the door. He'd enter while she provided cover, a system perfected by many years of training and working together. Easing the door open, he took a quick glance around before giving the 'all clear' signal. Just as he was slipping inside the doorway, a small dart imbedded itself into his neck and he was unconscious within seconds._

_ The first thing he noticed upon awakening was the darkness; it was like being at the bottom of a cave. Then he felt rough burlap against his face and ropes around his wrists and ankles that held him spread eagled facing a wall. Great. Torture. He hoped his partner was safe and assessing the situation calmly like he'd taught her. If he kept his captors occupied, she'd have a better chance of neutralizing the situation and cutting him free. He tensed all his major muscle groups to determine if they'd worked him over while he was unconscious but felt nothing worse than rope burns. _

_ Time to test the waters._

_ Erik groaned slightly as if awakening and began to struggle against his bonds. Unfortunately, they were thick and expertly tied. A bit of a break would have been nice. Low voices murmured behind him, too faint even for him to make out the words. A door opened then closed before he heard footsteps approaching. This is it; interrogation time. A sharp pain exploded along his back and he recognized the crack of a whip. Fuck, this was going to hurt. He took several more lashes across his back before they allowed him to rest. He recognized the tactic; he'd used it before, in fact. What good is pain if you let the prisoner go numb? Relaxing as much as possible, he strained to hear any clues as to what his captors expected from him. The only sound was his ragged breathing and the creak of the ropes that held him in place. Then, the snap of the whip sounded again and he fell into a world that held nothing but blinding pain before he mercifully lost consciousness once more. They never asked a single question._

_A bucket of salt water was dumped over his head and down his back to revive him. Hissing from the stinging pain, Erik snapped awake. He could hear footsteps growing closer and he forced his body to relax. The next phase would soon begin, he was certain. Instead of more abuse, he felt the light touch of a woman's hand caressing him like a lover. He knew that touch and sighed in relief as the sack was removed. Squinting against the sudden light, he was overjoyed to see his partner…until he saw the gun in her hand. It was pointed at his chest. Again, nothing was said. The only sound was the click of the hammer being pulled into firing position; it echoed loudly in the room. Blowing him a kiss, she smiled and pulled the trigger._

"Christine!" Erik fell out of bed into a wary crouch, pistol in his hand while he looked quickly around the room. Putting the safety back on, he replaced the weapon in the holster hanging from his bed and ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. Damn nightmares. Five years and he still relived that moment nearly every night. Five years since he saw his partner, his pupil, his love laugh in his face and leave him to die. It took months for him to recover his health. He still hadn't recovered from her betrayal.

A glance at the clock told him it was far too early to rise but he knew he'd not sleep again this night. At least he'd gotten three hours; that was more than he'd gotten on any one day in several months. Pulling on some lounge pants, Erik moved to pour himself a glass of whiskey just as his phone rang. He drank half in one long swallow and refilled the glass again before moving to check the caller ID.

Son of a bitch.

"Da'ud, what the hell do you want?"

"Hello, Erik. I'm doing well, thank you for asking, and you?" The slightly amused voice of his old friend grated Erik's already raw nerves.

"It's 2:00am and you're on my phone. How the hell do you think I am?" He growled harshly into the receiver. Though he owed the detective his life, he really hadn't wanted to hear from him so early in the morning nor so soon after the dream that haunted him. Too many memories were swirling in his head for him to be sociable. He downed the drink and poured another somehow knowing he wasn't going to like the reason for the call.

"I have a favor to ask, Erik. A big one." The detective's voice had grown very serious. That coupled with the fact that his friend never asked for favors gave Erik pause. "I need you to protect someone for me until I can positively identify a perp in a murder case."

"That's it? Babysit someone for you while you run around and play cops and robbers? What happened to police protection by, oh I don't know, the police?" He snorted in disbelief and reached for the glass.

"Erik. There was a white rose placed on the victim." The glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the slate floor as the detective continued. "I don't want to say anything else on an open line. We're coming up to the gate now. Let us in and we'll discuss it inside where there's no chance of prying eyes and ears."

Erik moved towards the security console to verify the detective's identity. Once the hand scanner was complete and the fingerprint match confirmed, he pressed the button to open the gates. The shock was starting to wear off and now a familiar feeling had begun to boil deep in his belly: anger. Love had made him foolish; happiness had been but a figment of his imagination; trust nearly cost him his life. But anger…ah, anger was a constant he could appreciate. It pulled him from that building where Christine had left him to die; it sustained him when he abandoned the Agency for the life of a reclusive composer and theater owner; and now it would get him through tonight when the dagger she'd thrust into his heart all those years ago would be twisted once more.

Ignoring the broken glass, he pulled a suit from the closet and dressed quickly. Rubbing his hand over his face, he decided on a quick shave with the electric razor before combing his hair and settling the mask over the right side of his face. As the cold, flexible rubber settled over the ridges of his deformity, Erik retreated into the role of Le Fantôme; the code name the agency had given him for his unparalleled expertise in stealth and infiltration. Le Fantôme was as cold, emotionless, and deadly as he was silent. Le Fantôme had never known love. Or betrayal. Or despair.


	3. Chapter 3

For IamthePhantomoftheOpera - Happy Graduation :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Erik is based mostly on ALW's musical with a splash of Leroux for good measure.

**Chapter 3 **

**Oct. 15 – 2:00am**

After she reported the text message to the detective, he deemed it unsafe for Alex to remain with Lizzie. For both of them. Experts back at the station were doing what they could to trace the message but, since the number was from a throw-away cell phone, they didn't expect much luck. While they were working on the trace, al-Zahir took Alex back to her apartment to pack a small bag. If the murderers were who he suspected, a patrol car cruising past the girl's apartment wouldn't be nearly enough. Hell, an officer camped in her living room probably wouldn't be enough. So, he took her to the one person he knew could protect her: Erik Devereaux.

He had met the masked man five years ago while working as a deep insertion operative in Iraq. As a second-generation Iranian raised bilingual, it was easy for the Agency to build a background that would be accepted by the terrorist cell. However, somehow his position inside the enemy's operation had been compromised and so his orders were to rendezvous with Le Fantôme's infiltration unit, neutralize the warehouse, and then return for debriefing. The explosives had been set by the time he met up with Christine for a final sweep of the area. Tearfully, she told him that Le Fantôme had been executed and they needed to evac before reinforcements arrived. The girl looked positively broken hearted and said she would prepare their vehicle while he finished the sweep. That's how he found Devereaux, bound and bloody with a bullet wound to the chest…but still breathing. It was difficult getting him out of the warehouse; sometimes helping him walk, sometimes dragging him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. They had barely cleared the building when the first of the charges went off. Exhausted, al-Zahir struggled to make it to the rendezvous point only to find the road deserted. Christine and their transport were nowhere in sight. It was hours before another transport could be arranged and he worried Devereaux would bleed out before he could be taken to a competent doctor. Luckily, the bullet had missed all of the vital organs so, physically, he recovered quickly; however, the detective wondered if Le Fantôme would ever recover from the wounds Christine inflicted on his soul.

During the drive to Devereaux's home the detective encouraged Alex to try to sleep in the passenger seat, folding his jacket for her to use as a pillow. The poor girl was physically and emotionally exhausted and yet there was still a long night ahead once they reached the house. He could tell she was slowly breaking down; she had suppressed her grief all day and it was coming through in her sleep. She woke several times screaming or crying for her brother. Even though he tried to keep his voice low, she had jerked awake once more when he called Devereaux for entry into the Estate.

"Miss Roberts?" al-Zahir glanced over at her before driving through the large gate. "We will be arriving at the house shortly to meet with Mr. Devereaux. He will ensure your safety while we continue to investigate both the murder of your brother as well as the threat to you."

"Is…is he a police officer as well?" Alex asked as she ran a hand through her hair to bring it under some sort of control. She didn't feel like digging through her purse for a brush.

"No, not exactly." The detective considered how much to tell the girl about Erik Devereaux and decided to keep to the bare facts. "We met some years ago before I left the Agency to be a cop; I saved his life, he saved mine, that sort of thing. He is the best at what he does and I trust him. If he says he can keep you safe, then he will do just that or die trying."

Alex paled at the mention of death. "I just don't understand. Why come after me at all? I don't have what they want; hell, I don't even **know** what they want! Sammy was the genius with computers; most of the time I can barely program my DVR."

"I know. But whatever Samuel found must be incriminating in some way to these people. It doesn't matter that you don't know what he found; they will pursue you simply on the off-chance that you do."

He pulled the car to a stop in front of the most beautiful house Alex had ever seen. Every part of it, even the decorative flourishes, flowed seamlessly together. It was form and function and beauty all at once and, even in her grief, she was awed at the sight of it bathed in the pale moonlight. Al-Zahir moved around the car to her door to let her out and advised her to walk directly to the front door. Meanwhile, he matched her steps to provide a shield from possible rear attacks. The door opened just as they were close enough to ring the bell and the detective ushered her inside.

If Alex thought the building's façade was beautiful, the interior took her breath away. Natural slate tiles were covered by colorful Persian silk rugs in deep earth tones, the Venetian plaster on the walls bore art that belonged in a gallery selling for more money than she'd make in a year, and the cherry wood furniture looked to be custom made to match the crown molding and chair rails. The overall effect was clean and warm but elegant. The detective gently nudged her forward and she reluctantly pulled her eyes from further exploring the details in the room.

Al-Zahir led her to what appeared to be the Library. Built-in cherry wood bookcases spanned from floor to ceiling but still were overflowing with books. There was a matching computer console as well as an executive style desk complete with leather chair. While Alex was gazing about the room, Erik took the opportunity to study her. He was pleased that she had dressed casually and comfortably in a t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers; he hadn't met a woman yet who could run evasive maneuvers effectively in heels and a skirt. He trusted in his security but it was always good to keep your options open and escape routes planned. The information he'd pulled up on her told of her parents' deaths, her brother's computer crimes, and her rush to get her degree as soon as possible. The photo attached to the file, however, did not do her justice. She was lovely. Stepping from the shadows in the corner, Erik motioned to the sofa near the desk.

"Da'ud. Miss Roberts." He nodded to each in turn, smiling faintly at the girl's startled jump. "Care to join me for a drink?" The detective declined as always and Alex asked only for a glass of water. He poured for the two of them then sat behind the desk. "Now…explain."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Erik is based mostly on ALW's musical with a splash of Leroux for good measure.

**Chapter 4**

**Oct. 15 – 2:30am**

While al-Zahir filled Erik in on the details of the murder of Sam and the text message, Alex studied her host. He had to be well over 6 feet in height which was accentuated by his slender build. She was amazed at how fluid his movements were for so tall a man; he had seemed to glide to the chair rather than walk. His hair appeared to be jet black in the dim light; she supposed she'd know for certain in better lighting. The fingers that wrapped around his glass were long, slim, almost delicate…an artist's or musician's hands. But his eyes…Alex had seen hazel eyes that looked almost golden in certain light but Devereaux's eyes _were_ gold and, though she blamed it on the emotional roller coaster that her day had been, she would swear they actually glowed in the dark room. There was something slightly…off with his face but, in the dim light, she couldn't put her finger on it. That, too, she blamed on exhaustion. She had been studying him so intently that she didn't realize the conversation had ended and they were looking at her expectantly.

"Oh…I'm sorry," she blushed faintly, "did you ask me something? I'm afraid I was a million miles away."

"No need to concern yourself, Miss Roberts. I'm quite certain your day dreams were farm more interesting than discovering who wants you dead." Erik's cold, sarcastic voice sent a chill through Alex and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I'm sorry," she blinked back tears as she struggled to keep her emotions at bay for just a bit longer. His lack of sympathy and her own embarrassment at being caught staring made her voice a bit sharper than she had intended. "I've just had a…one of the worst days of my life. I've been up since 5:00am today…yesterday, had three finals at the university, was told my brother had been m…murdered, my apartment was ransacked, and my life has been threatened by my brother's killer. I'm not sure if these are common occurrences for you, Mr. Devereaux, but they're not for me so forgive me if my attention wanders."

"Bravo, Miss Roberts," faint amusement now tinged his voice and Alex shivered again, this time at the sheer beauty of it. "You will need that fire, that anger to get through this ordeal, I'm sure. Back to the situation at hand…have you thought of anything else that might help us discover what she wants?"

"She…? So you know who killed my brother?"

"Perhaps. We need more information first." Al-Zahir clarified. "For now, we have only assumptions and gut feelings. Neither of these sway a jury, I'm afraid."

"Oh." She sighed dejectedly. "I don't know anything for certain but I believe Sammy had gotten access to a 'net enabled computer somehow and was up to his old tricks. Generally he caused little harm to the systems he hacked into; he considered it a game to defeat the self-proclaimed impenetrable firewalls. He'd sneak in, change their homepage to a porn site, leave a message thanking them for the fun, or override their security cameras to show old cartoons, stuff like that. Nothing truly damaging. It was almost like a drug addiction, though. He'd get caught up in the thrill and start poking into banking systems, ATMs, things like that. Our parents had just died and we had to sell our home to pay for the funeral and hospital bills. It was so easy for him to siphon off a penny here, half a penny there. He got comfortable. He got careless and then he got arrested."

Alex stood and began to pace, trying to think of anything that stood out. "He was restricted from computers when he got out of jail and had promised me that the only time he'd used one was at the employment agency. His parole officer accompanied him there. But he'd been so relaxed, so at ease. Almost like he'd gotten a 'fix', you know? He'd also been on the phone quite a lot in the last few days. The calls were always short and he would take them in his bedroom. I thought he was talking to prospective employers and setting up job interviews like he'd promised. I had even hoped that he had a girlfriend. Perhaps it was merely wishful thinking. I tried not to pry into his life too much."

She chewed her lip and continued to pace; there was something…just outside of memory but she simply couldn't grasp it. The more she focused on it, the fuzzier it got until she finally shrugged in defeat and dropped back onto the sofa burying her head in her hands. "I don't know! It feels like there's something…something just outside of memory, something important. I don't know what, but it's there…dammit, why can't I remember?" Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs that she could no longer hold inside. Alex had shut her emotions away for too long and her frustration and exhaustion had finally ripped away her self control.

A glass suddenly appeared in front of her and Alex looked up into the golden eyes of her host. Her hands were shaking when she took the glass and she whispered a thank you before dropping her gaze to the floor once more.

"Drink," Erik's melodious voice settled over her like a warm blanket and soothed her nerves. "It will help you relax a bit."

Alex nodded and sipped the drink, too numb to do anything but obey those gorgeous eyes and that beautiful voice. The cool water felt good sliding down her throat. She wiped her eyes with her fingers before accepting the handkerchief that, like the glass, seemed to appear out of thin air. Silence fell on the room while Alex tried to pull herself together but it wasn't too much longer before her eyes began to droop. Devereaux returned to his chair and watched as Alex gave in to the pull of the sleep aid he'd placed in her drink. The detective took the glass from her hands before she could drop it and helped her stretch out on the sofa. She was asleep before the blanket had completely settled over her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Erik is based mostly on ALW's musical with a splash of Leroux for good measure.

**A/N** - Hate it? Love it? I'd beg for reviews but that's never a pretty sight :)

**Chapter 5**

**Oct. 15 – 3:00am**

"Should we move her to one of the guest bedrooms?" al-Zahir asked as he moved closer to the desk so they could speak without waking Alex.

"No," Erik watched the girl as she slept. She looked even younger, if that were possible, and a lot more vulnerable. "If she awakens early, I don't want a screaming female on my hands due to her not knowing where she is." He reluctantly turned his attention back to the detective. "What have you left out?" al-Zahir handed over several photographs taken of the crime scene.

"The bedroom where we found the body was pretty much destroyed. I'm not sure if there was a true struggle or if it'd been staged." Devereaux nodded while flipping through the pictures. "The kid had been shot multiple times in painful, but not fatal, areas: ankles, knees, shoulders, groin, with a final one to his head. I'm waiting on ballistics to confirm my suspicions but I don't think they were all made with the same weapon. Also, the angles of entry and exit are too clean, too straight to be the result of fighting over a weapon.

"As you can see, the entire house has been ransacked; furniture overturned, books knocked off shelves, pots and dishes pulled out of cupboards. It's too thorough and too destructive for just a random home invasion. Most petty criminals are a pretty cowardly lot and wouldn't have risked that much noise in an apartment complex like that." Erik nodded again as he placed the photographs on his desk, his eyes drifting to Alex once more before refocusing on his friend.

"Anything else, Da'ud?" Like al-Zahir, he didn't believe it to be a random burglary. Whoever it was had been looking for something and Samuel had either gotten in the way or was one of the primary targets.

"Just this," the detective reached into his pocket, pulled out a final photo of the crime scene, and handed it to Erik. The only response from the masked man was the tightening of his fingers on the glass until it shattered in his hand. The photo showed the victim lying in a pool of blood; wedged between his teeth was a single white rose.

"Christine." Erik's voice was flat, emotionless, and that unnerved al-Zahir more than if he'd ranted, screamed, or cried. Nothing flickered in the golden eyes when the detective handed him a handkerchief with which to wrap his bleeding fingers.

"Either her or someone who knows her methods and calling card. I still have some of my old contacts in the Agency and, if I can find the machine the boy was using, they may be able to tell me what was found."

"Don't involve anyone else unless it's absolutely necessary," Erik tossed the photo at the others on his desk and stood. "I'll go to the apartment to see what's been missed; stay with the girl and make sure she doesn't do anything stupid." He started for the side entrance into the garage, throwing instructions over his shoulder. Al-Zahir sighed at the loss of his own bed this night but followed Erik to the door. "I should be back before she awakens but if I'm not, give her free reign of the house and encourage the child to eat. If we have to abandon the house, I want her able to keep up with me." The detective shook his head with a bemused chuckle as he closed the door. Most trained agents couldn't keep up with Le Fantôme much less a grieving girl with no training. Returning to the Library, he secured the photographs in the main drawer of the desk and selected a book to pass the time until either Alex awakened or Erik returned.

**Oct. 15 – 4:45am**

Erik arrived shortly before dawn and drove past the complex for a quick outdoor recon. Identifying a few possible sentries, he parked in the half-full lot of a sports bar around the corner and grabbed a few necessary supplies from the trunk of the car. Blending into the shadows, he silently made his way up to the Roberts' apartment building to further analyze the potential sentries. If there hadn't been some sort of guard or watchman, Devereaux would have ruled out his former partner. She wouldn't be so lax; he hadn't trained her to be.

He picked out the police detective almost immediately with a shake of his head. He'd have to talk to Da'ud about the reprehensible methods the police used for staking out a building. If he were any more obvious, he'd be in a patrol car. Dismissing the officer, his eyes moved to the other two he'd spotted earlier. Erik remained in the shadows for nearly thirty minutes before he was satisfied he knew their routine. One was being far too obvious, so that made him a decoy who was either a rookie or otherwise expendable. The other was quite skilled but he'd been trained by Christine. It's hard for a student to train another to beat the teacher. Satisfied, Erik waited until all three were either occupied or distracted before he slipped into the building, silent as a ghost.

Standing outside the Roberts' door, he was appalled by its pathetic lock; he probably could have picked it when he was nine. He quickly entered the apartment and shut the door quietly behind him. It wouldn't do for the neighbors to investigate or call that wretched policeman who waited outside. Locking the door behind him, Erik surveyed the damage as well as potential hiding places before advancing into the room. If he were watching the building, he'd have at least one man on the inside waiting for someone like him.

The lasso slid along his fingers like an old lover as he prowled silently throughout the small apartment. He checked every closet, under every bed, even in the kitchen cupboards but found himself alone. It was too easy and that made him suspicious. He made one more sweep even more cautiously than before, changing directions several times to try to catch anyone who might be following just out of sight. Once again, he found no trace of anyone having been here other than the crime lab and the coroner's men. Regardless, he remained on high alert while he methodically checked every room for anything that might have been missed before. He bagged a few items before opening a window and scaling the back wall down to the alley below. He was on the road back to the Estate before the morning rush hour.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Please review :)

**Chapter 6**

**Oct. 15 –6:45am**

The sunlight filtering through the closed drapes warmed Alex's face and urged her to wakefulness. In an effort to get the sun out of her eyes, she rolled over and then immediately regretted it. Her head throbbed, her eyes were dry and scratchy, and her mouth felt like she'd been chewing cotton balls all night. If she didn't know better, she'd think she had one hell of a hangover. Gingerly, she opened her eyes, wincing at the light. The Library, even more beautiful in daylight, still served to remind her of the events of yesterday: the detective, Samuel, that awful text message, and the strange but fascinating man who owned this house. Except for her intriguing host, she had really hoped it had all been a horrible dream. Unfortunately, she saw al-Zahir dozing in a nearby chair, a book resting across his chest. Damn. Not a dream then. As she sat up, she noticed the book's title: War & Peace. No wonder he fell asleep.

The detective awakened when she sat up and, seeing her wince and hold her head, he offered her some water and a couple of white tablets. He knew the after affects of the sleep aid and was prepared. Not quite fully awake, Alex hesitated to take the pills but al-Zahir assured her they were merely pain relievers. He even passed her the bottle so she could verify he was being truthful. Not quite satisfied but wanting to get rid of the gnomes pounding in her head, she tossed the pills in her mouth and washed them down with the cool water.

"I've made a pot of coffee if you want a cup, Miss Roberts. I'll show you the kitchen and, if you'd like breakfast, you can help yourself to whatever you'd like." With a nod, Alex followed him into a sleek and modern kitchen. It was almost the size of her bedroom in her old apartment and she quickly fell in love with the lay-out. At least here you didn't have to open the dishwasher in order to access the silverware drawer.

Not really all that hungry but needing something to do, Alex looked through cupboards, the refrigerator, and the ice box for something to make for breakfast. Frowning at the sparse selection, she did manage to find enough ingredients for a decent southwestern style omelet. While chopping the ham into small cubes, she apologized for last night.

"I can't believe I fell asleep while we were talking. I usually have better manners than that."

"Don't worry about it; it was quite understandable. You had a long and stressful day." Al-Zahir thought it best not to mention that her sleep had been helped along by something in her water.

"Oh! Will Mr. Devereaux be up soon? I'll make extra if so." She glanced over at the detective who was filling her coffee mug from the carafe.

"Erik left early this morning; he wanted to see your apartment before it was further compromised," al-Zahir handed Alex a steaming mug of coffee.

"But he will be back soon, right?" The thought of being left alone in this huge house in the middle of God-knows-where was almost as frightening as returning to her apartment.

"I believe that was his intention, Miss Roberts." She nodded and poured the onions, tomatoes, peppers, and ham into the pan, letting them sere for a few seconds before cracking the eggs into it. Moments later, she eased the omelet onto a plate and covered it with salsa.

"How long do you think I'll have to stay here? Will I at least get to go to my brother's f…funeral?" Alex stuttered over the last word, somehow talking about it made it a lot more real.

"That remains to be seen." Erik's melodic voice nearly made her choke on her breakfast as she jumped in surprise.

"Jeez, make a bit of noise when you enter a room!" She clutched at her heart as if to keep it from hopping out her body and running away. Her host was lounging against the door frame in loose black trousers and a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The daylight had not dimmed the golden hue of his eyes; if anything, they seemed brighter and more intriguing than before. She realized she was staring again when his eyebrow arched in amused query. A faint blush touched her cheeks as she turned back to her breakfast.

"I'm going to grab a quick shower, Da'ud," Erik dragged his gaze from his new house guest, "and meet you both in the Library after you've finished your breakfast." He left as silently as he arrived.

After she hurried through breakfast the detective showed Alex the guest room so she, too, could take a quick shower. She rarely used make up unless she was going to a special event and her hair usually did fine if she let it air dry, so she simply toweled it dry and threw on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and her best sneakers. Barely fifteen minutes had passed since she left the kitchen and still she returned to the Library after her host. Erik was standing at the window and she hoped he wasn't upset with her for taking so long. With a murmur of apology for being late, Alex sat on the sofa and nervously gripped her hands together.

Erik turned from the window and handed her some papers. Most were pages ripped from Sam's 365 day calendar he kept on his nightstand; one was a crumpled bit of scrap paper with what appeared to be random numbers, while the last was half of a postal form for requiring a signature on a package. The postal form was dated for the twelfth, two days before Sam was killed. The package had been mailed to Alex.

"Have you accepted that package, Miss Roberts?" Devereaux leaned a hip against the desk, his golden eyes never wavering from his new guest.

"No," she shook her head in confusion, "I didn't even know Sam had mailed anything. Usually I'd ship his packages on my way to or from class."

"We'll go this afternoon. Da'ud, I'll need someone at the post office watching for anyone interested in Miss Robert's mail, inside and outside is preferable." The detective nodded and Erik returned his attention to Alex. "Whatever's in that package is probably what got your brother killed. We'll pick it up and bring it back here for evaluation. Since we've had no further contact from the killers, I'm positive they're waiting on you to retrieve the package." Alex paled at the mention of Sam's murderers but gripped her fingers tighter to hold back a fresh wave of grief. And fear.

"Will…um, will you be with me, Mr. Devereaux? At the post office, I mean." Her voice shook slightly as the only thing going through her mind was that she was being used as bait. No matter if a detective was nearby, she really didn't want to go into that building alone.

"If you wish." At her nod, he motioned to the crumpled piece of paper. From what Alex could tell, it was ripped out of one of her sketch books. "I found that in the waste basket by your brother's bed. Do you recognize anything on there?" She smoothed it out on her thigh, frowning slightly in concentration.

"Hmm…I think so. One second," Alex dug through her purse and pulled out a small hand-held GPS receiver. Turning it on, she stood and walked to the window where she laid it down on the sill to boot up. "I want to be sure but I believe these are GPS coordinates. I'm more familiar with DMS but this looks like it may be the Degrees format so I want to double check. If they are, it's nowhere in the US; that's too far east of the Prime Meridian." Once the unit had acquired the needed satellite connections, she plugged in the numbers and waited for it to show up on the small map. "Yes, they're coordinates, but for somewhere in … Russia, maybe? I'm afraid I don't have that map pack installed but you should be able to plug it into any online mapping program and it will give the exact location." Alex handed Erik the unit and returned to the sofa. At the detective's shocked expression, she shrugged. "I don't know much about computers, Detective al-Zahir, but I'm a geocacher so I know my GPSr. Plus I tend to get lost a lot.

"As for the others…this one near the top is probably an IP address somewhere. Due to the conditions of Sam's parole, we don't have internet access at the apartment and I keep my laptop locked in my car. As for the rest, I'm not sure." Alex shrugged and set the slip of paper aside before picking up the calendar pages. "These are just old pages from Sam's calendar. He always liked to…to read the trivia and ask me about it later." She covered her eyes and worked to get her emotions back under control. Taking a deep, calming breath, she wiped her eyes and whispered an apology.

"Shhh. You're doing great, Miss Roberts," Erik handed her a handkerchief and retrieved the pages, placing them in the drawer with the photographs of the crime scene. "Da'ud, I'll scan these and send you a copy; together we should be able to add to Miss Roberts' excellent information." The detective nodded and rose to his feet. "I need to speak to Da'ud privately for a moment, so if you'll excuse us, I'll walk him to the door. Feel free to go anywhere on the bottom floor, Miss Roberts, but do not leave the house. Until we know for certain who we're dealing with, I want you to remain inside where I can keep better watch over you." At Alex's nod, Erik left the Library with the detective.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 7**

**Oct. 15 –8:00am**

Alexandra stared down at the handkerchief in her hand wondering if her life would ever seem normal again. Two days ago, the only thing she had worried about was finishing her degree and now…now she was hiding like a criminal in some strange man's house in the hopes they could catch those responsible for Sammy's death before she was next in line. It sounded like something out of a really cheesy movie and, if she wasn't so miserable and scared, she might be able to find the humor in it. Wiping the tears from her cheeks with a bit more force than really necessary, Alex left the comfort of the sofa to explore the beauty of the home.

Besides the three rooms she'd already seen, there were two additional guest bedrooms, a formal dining room, and a music room. The other bedrooms were as beautifully and tastefully decorated as the one in which she was staying though with enough variations to color and furniture placement as to not make perfect copies of each other. The formal dining room was probably larger than her apartment and could easily seat twenty to thirty guests. The furniture here was in the same dark cherry wood as she had seen throughout the rest of the house with tapestry-style cushions in the chairs that matched the drapes which hung from ceiling to floor over the many windows. The pièce de résistance, however, was the beautiful crystal chandelier in the center of the vaulted ceiling. Alex wasn't a connoisseur of antiques but she was fairly certain the chandelier was extremely old and delicate. '_And probably cost more than my car,'_ she thought with a wry smile. Opening the drapes slightly, she watched in awe as the crystals cast a multitude of rainbows about the room and tried to imagine it in all its glory during a night's entertainment.

The faint strains of a piano drew Alex from the dining room; the melody was tragic, haunting, and oh so beautiful. The song spoke of love and loss, joy and despair; it reached into the very heavens and plunged into the darkest abyss of hell. Angelic or demonic, it was like nothing she'd ever heard and it called to her to rejoice in its happiness and share in its pain. With tears on her face, she followed the song to the closed door of the music room but hesitated to enter. Surely no earthly being could create such music? So, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, letting the song wrap her in its lovingly tormented embrace. She wept for her brother, her parents, herself, and the being whose tragic life could produce such a song. So wrapped in the emotions the music brought forth, Alex didn't notice when it ended and the door opened before her.

"Miss Roberts?" Her name rolled off Erik's lips in a voice that was reminiscent of the ethereal beauty of the song that still held her in its grasp. "Are you ok? Did something happen?" Strangely enough, it was his quiet concern that drew Alex back to the present.

"Mr. D…Devereaux?" Confused, she looked up and was caught in his deep amber eyes. "What? Yes. I mean no. Wait…" Erik just arched an amused brow, a hint of a smile tugging one corner of his lips. She took a deep breath, shaking her head to try and regain some semblance of normalcy. "What I meant was yes, I'm alright. No, nothing happened. Was that you?"

"I'm not sure I quite understand, Miss Roberts." He tilted his head slightly, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Alex. Or Alexandra if you prefer." Again, that smile threatened his lips and he leaned against the closed door. She was reminded of a panther lounging after a hunt. "My name, sir. 'Miss Roberts' just seems so…" She shrugged helplessly. "Anyway. The music I just heard. Was that you playing? What was it? It wasn't like anything I've ever heard."

"Yes, I was working on some new music for my latest opera. You were welcome to come in and listen, though; no need to skulk about in the hallway." He gestured for her to precede him into the Library, pouring them both a cup of coffee. "And I asked what was wrong because you were crying and looking rather dazed."

Alex reclaimed her former seat on the sofa while Erik took the chair near her. With a slightly trembling hand, she wiped her tears and took a fortifying sip of her coffee.

"Oh. Yes, um, you see…I heard the song from the dining room, which is lovely by the way. In fact, all of what I've seen of your home is beautiful. The paintings in the hall are…um…" she blushed as that one amused brow rose once more. "Yes, well, I digress. The song. It was like it called to me and I had to follow it, had to find it. It was so…sad, yet happy at the same time. I can't really explain…" Her blush deepened and she wondered if she sounded as crazy to him as she thought she did. Suddenly, the contents of her coffee mug were the most riveting things in the world.

"I'm pleased you like my home, Alexandra. It took some time to find a contractor willing to work on my design but…"

"_Your_ design?" She interrupted him with an astonished squeak. "You're the architect?"

"Yes." Erik chuckled softly at her amazement then shrugged. Even his shrug was graceful and fluid. "Everyone needs a hobby. As for the song, while I apologize if it upset you, I'm glad you could feel what I had hoped to convey. Do you sing or play, Alexandra?"

"No, Mr. Devereaux," her mind was still lingering over architecture that could produce a home such as this as being a hobby. Knitting was a hobby; this was…amazing. "I sing like a dying cat and have never attempted any instrument other than one disastrous semester in junior high on the flute. I've taken pity on all instruments ever since and left them to those who won't torment them so."

"How unfortunate. Everyone should have music in their lives."

"Oh, I do have music," she smiled and set the empty cup on the table. "I play a mean radio and torment my steering wheel with my singing. So far, it hasn't complained. But what of you? Quite obviously you can play the piano and write music. Do you sing as well?"

Erik's relaxed and friendly manner quickly evaporated into one of polite indifference. The only indication that the subject was not one to be broached further was the flash of anger and pain in his golden eyes before he schooled his features. Alex shivered at the change in him which was accented by the cold, clipped voice of his reply.

"No, Miss Roberts, I do not sing." Abruptly, he rose and left the room as graceful and silent as ever with only the stiffness of his back and shoulders to reveal his discomfort.

_'There's a story there,'_ Alex mused as she moved the mugs to the kitchen to clean them, _'but somehow, I don't think I want to know.'_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 8**

**Oct. 15 –11:00am**

After he left the girl in the Library, Erik prowled the upper floor of the house, memories haunting him. Alexandra's question was both innocent and understandable, yet it brought back too much pain…too many memories. _Christine._ It all seemed to come back to her. She had been more than a trainee and partner for the Agency; she'd been his lover, his soul mate, his inspiration, his muse. How many nights had he held her in his arms and poured out his heart through song? How much of his love for her was woven into every note of his music? He had been unable to give up music entirely but he sang only for her. Now that she was his no longer his voice had grown silent. He couldn't bring himself to sing again. Growling in frustration, he entered the small gym and stripped off his jacket. If he was to focus today and keep the girl safe, he had to release his anger somehow. As the memories continued to crash over him, Erik took out his frustration on a suspended bag, giving it a series of vicious punches and jabs.

He could see Christine's hair fanning out across his pillow, a gorgeous riot of soft brown curls. The satin of her skin had burned its imprint into his fingertips; he could still taste the sweetness of her lips. Each memory twisted the dagger in his heart and he could feel the skin splitting on his bare knuckles with the force of every blow. Erik welcomed the pain; anything to take the memories and lock them away where they belonged, anything to mask the breaking of his already shattered heart.

_They had gone to see an opera that night, Faust. Christine had stolen his breath away in a stunning light pink dress suspended by the thinnest of straps. It was simple, elegant, and she was so beautiful it hurt him to gaze upon her on his arm. Erik had taken special care with his own clothing; the classic tuxedo fitting his lean frame impeccably, accented only by a rose in his lapel that perfectly matched her dress, and his latex mask so matching his skin tone that it gave no hint of what lay beneath. While escorting Christine up to their box, he was twitchy, nervous; for the hundredth time that night he felt the small velvet box in his pocket. _

_Tonight, during intermission, he was going to lay his heart bare before her. He would ask his love to marry him, to share his life and build a family with him, a life away from the Agency and all the danger and intrigue. Erik's first musical score had been published that week and was already receiving rave reviews. The initial payment from the publisher had been enough to purchase a small home just outside the city._

_If Christine noticed his nerves, she said nothing to him about it. Little did he know his beloved had already made plans for Intermission and they didn't include her masked partner. Just as the curtain fell on the first act, she excused herself to go to the powder room. Anxiously Erik awaited her return, turning the box round and round in his hands. Minutes seemed like hours and he had started to worry that some evil had befallen her when she slipped into the box with less than five minutes before the curtain rose on the final act. She looked flushed and disheveled, out of breath and out of sorts; all of which she blamed on her rush to get back in time. A crowd at the bathrooms, she explained, and some were out of order causing a long wait. Erik just nodded and stealthily slipped the box into his jacket pocked. He struggled to believe her but his heart was breaking; she smelled of another man's cologne._

**Oct. 15 –1:00pm**

When Erik returned to the Library downstairs, he had showered and changed into black jeans, dress shirt, and wing tips. His hair was once more slicked back into place and he'd reapplied the adhesive to his flesh-toned latex mask. Workers in government buildings rarely appreciated visits from obviously masked men; it made them nervous. He looked as calm and controlled as ever with only the faintest of bruising forming on his scraped knuckles. With the barest of nods to Alex, he crossed the room to the desk to retrieve the claim ticket they would need.

"Are you ready to do this?" No emotion filtered into his beautiful voice as he watched her carefully. At her hesitant nod and the obvious fear in her eyes, he relented slightly and sat beside her on the sofa to hand her the ticket. "The plan is to make this look as normal and unremarkable as possible. We'll enter the post office together, move to the counter when it's our turn, retrieve the package, and then return here to open it. I'll be right beside you the whole time and a detective will be stationed outside to watch the perimeter."

Alex nodded but her stomach had suddenly filled with a pit of writhing and hissing vipers. She hoped she didn't break down or run screaming or throw up from nerves. She was a finance major, not an actress! How was she supposed to act? What if someone talks to her that she knows, asks her who her escort is? She struggled to keep her fear in check.

"I know a few of the people who work at this post office, went to school with a few. What if someone asks…?" Alex glanced up and motioned towards him before placing the ticket carefully into her wallet.

"If anyone asks, I'm the solicitor handling your brother's affairs," he answered smoothly. "I'll use the name of Richard Devlin and have some business cards with all the pertinent information to back it up. If you forget the name, just use Erik. It's listed as my middle name on the cards. Anything else?"

"Yes…could we stop by my apartment to pick up my laptop? If Sammy managed to get to it and use it somehow, it will need to be checked and I'd like to check my grades for the final exams." Alex smiled faintly while trying to grasp onto any sign of normalcy. "When this is over, I'll still need a job; I can use this time to work on my résumé."

"We'll drive by to see if it's safe but no guarantees. A lot will depend on what happens at the post office and how closely your apartment is being watched."

Nodding in understanding, Alex stood on trembling legs and followed Erik into the garage. She didn't know much about cars other than how to drive one and where to put the gas, but she did know that a few of them were extremely expensive. All the flashy ones were passed up for a silver-grey midsized sedan. Ford Taurus, how very…normal. As she slid into the passenger seat, Alex prayed that the worst things to happen that day would be long lines and cranky people.

**Hi all! Please review and let me know what you think. Like it, hate it, indifferent? Is it going to slow, chapters too short, etc. Constructive criticism is always welcome :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. I do own Alex though she'd be pissed if she heard me say it :)

Also...Thank you to all who have reviewed and encouraged me to continue posting this story.

**Chapter 9**

**Oct. 15 –1:00pm**

The ride into town was mostly silent other than the soft music from the radio. At first, Alex attempted conversation by pointing out and asking questions about landmarks and other interesting bits of the passing scenery but was met with clipped responses at best or unintelligible grunts at worst. Though the side of his face that she could see showed no hint, she could tell he was annoyed. Was it the conversation in the Library this morning, the questions and small talk now, or was he simply annoyed in general? After nearly thirty minutes and being met with resistance at every turn, she gave in to his desire for silence and turned slightly to study her host once more.

In the sunlight his features were more defined than she'd been able to make out earlier. Alex was surprised to note that his eyes were, indeed, a golden amber of a shade she'd never seen on a human. Fascinated, she watched as the light brought out dark auburn highlights in his black hair that was slicked back in his normal style. Briefly she wondered what it'd look like all mussed and falling over his eyes. Perhaps then he wouldn't seem quite so intimidating? Her eyes wandered along his smooth cheek and down to his strong jaw. Once more something struck her as being slightly…off and again she couldn't identify why. It wasn't until she noticed the faint stubble on his chin…but just on the left side. The right was perfectly smooth. _Strange._ Where the stubble ended, she finally noticed the slight ridge that bisected his chin. Hardly noticeable until it was known to be there, Alex could now follow it as it traveled along his jaw line, up the side of his face near his ear, to his hairline, then down the bridge of his nose to skirt his mouth. She noticed the slight shadowing of his right eye and was confused. It was almost like he was wearing…

"A mask." Alex was unaware she'd whispered the words aloud until Erik shot her a look full of malice.

"Ah yes, the mask." Erik's quiet voice dripped with cold fury making her almost wish he'd yell instead. "I'd been wondering when you'd broach that particular subject."

He pulled the car onto the shoulder, placed it in park, and let it idle; Alex sat frozen in her seat as he turned to pin her into place with his gaze. Startled, she was reminded of the predatory eyes of a large cat while stalking its prey. A light shudder passed over her at the thought.

"Mr. Devereaux. I…I'm sorry…" her voice shook as she stammered an apology. "I didn't mean…I didn't even know I'd said anything."

"Oh but you did mean to, my dear," his anger rolled off him in waves and threatened to suffocate Alex where she cringed against the door. "You've been studying me like a bug under a microscope, first last night and just now. Are you happy now that you've satisfied your…curiosity?" Erik sneered on the last word and Alex shook her head violently in denial. "No, you say? So now you want to see beneath the mask, to find the monster who hides. Would _that_ make you happy, Miss Roberts?"

"No, please, Mr. Devereaux," she whimpered, finally breaking away from that intense glare to stare down at her hands. She noticed how they shook and clasped them together tightly. "I'm sorry, please. I didn't mean…I was only…." She shook her head and fell silent; afraid she could say nothing that wouldn't make him angrier than he was already.

"Know this, Miss Roberts. If you ever again mention or, God help you, touch the mask, those who killed your brother will be the _very least_ of your worries." Venom dripped from every word, his angel's voice now echoing the cries of demons from the blackest depths of hell. At her terrified nod, Erik savagely threw the car back into gear and reentered the highway with a shower of dust and squealing tires.

Trembling, Alex stared out the window no longer seeing the scenery as it flew past. This was the man who was supposed to keep her safe? This was the man who would help her find the ones responsible for Sammy's death? When he'd threatened her, she'd heard the awful sincerity in his voice. He'd kill her without any regrets and the detective would probably cover for him. Her hands tightened until her nails cut into her skin. She'd probably be safer with her brother's killers; Good God, they couldn't be any worse than Erik Devereaux! Stealing a surreptitious glance at his stony countenance, Alex began to plan how to get away from him and take her chances on her own. She had several acquaintances at the post office; perhaps they'd let her out the back? She could return to her apartment, pack, get her car, and drive to the lake house. Once she was gone, she was certain neither the detective nor Devereaux would come looking for her. What would they have to gain by it?

Erik silently fumed as he drove. He could tell he'd scared the girl, but dammit, why did she have to mention the mask? He'd thought he'd disguised it well, but obviously not well enough for such a slip of a girl to see it. Why did women always have to pry? From Eve to Pandora to the trembling child in his car, women constantly wanted to see, to know, to have those things that are forbidden. Hell, protecting the chit wasn't even something he wanted to do. He was only doing it as a favor for Da'ud and due to the possible involvement of Christine. _Christine._ God, he loved her still but hated her at the same time. Her betrayal had cut him soul deep; moreso because she'd lied about her feelings for him and had another lover than even for trying to kill him. He wasn't even sure what he'd do if he saw her again. If she tried to kill him a second time would he be able to stop her? Would he even want to? He hoped it wouldn't come to that; any hesitation on his part might have disastrous results.

Pulling his thoughts from Christine, Erik glanced over at Alex and saw that she was deep in thought. Considering what had just occurred, she was no doubt planning something extremely foolish and he contemplated letting her succeed. At least then he could wash his hands of the whole affair and return to his music; favor be damned. And yet…the image of the crime scene photographs crept into his mind. Samuel Roberts lay in a pool of his own blood – beaten, tortured, then shot like an animal – and Erik could easily imagine Alexandra lying there instead. Dammit, why should he care anyway? She was just like all the others who see the mask and forget there's a human being behind it. Erik glanced over at Alex once more, surprised to see the glittering trails on her cheeks left by silent tears. Perhaps he'd overreacted just a little. A very little.

"We should arrive in about twenty minutes," His voice was quiet and calm as he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. Laying it on the seat beside her, he returned his attention to the road.

"Thank you." Alex's whisper was barely audible and her hand shook as she wiped away her tears. She wondered if she should apologize again, she sincerely wanted to, but felt it might be best to simply let the subject drop entirely. In an effort to ease the tense silence, she asked him to explain the plan again. Erik nodded and walked her through the plan once more. This time, Alex had some questions and they spent the remainder of the trip discussing all the possibilities and potential problems. As they pulled into the lot and walked towards the front door, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It was time to find out what this was all about as well as escape her masked protector.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 10**

**Oct. 15 –3:00pm**

The post office was mostly empty with only a few customers gathering needed forms, buying stamps, or picking up their mail from their boxes. Seeing Amanda Waterson at the counter, a classmate from college, Alex decided to put her plan in motion. With an apologetic smile at Erik, she made her excuses and stepped into the ladies room. Thankfully, it was empty and only had a single stall. She apologized silently to whomever was going to have to deal with this at closing, dropped an entire roll of paper into the toilet, and flushed. It rewarded her with a messy overflow. Now, to get to the back exit.

Alex left the restroom with a frown on her face and spent the short amount of time in line to complain to Erik about its condition. When they got to the counter, she chatted with Amanda for a time, signed for an oversized padded shipping envelope, and then asked if she could use the employee restroom in the back since the one in front was a disaster. Studiously ignoring Erik's irate frown, she thanked her friend profusely and made her way to the employee lounge. Once she turned a corner and was out of the masked man's sight, Alex bypassed the lounge and ran for the employee's entrance in the back. She estimated she only had about five minutes before he'd start looking for her and didn't want to waste any time. Slipping out the back door, she looked around cautiously but, seeing no one, walked quickly across the parking lot and into an alley she knew to be a short cut to her apartment.

Tearing open the padded envelope sent by her brother, Alex removed a flash drive and a letter and stuffed them into her purse. When she passed an industrial trash can, she tossed the envelope inside without stopping. It only took her fifteen minutes to get to her apartment and she waited for a group of businessmen to pass before slipping up the stairs. Once inside, she took a deep breath, locked the door behind her, and took one last look at the place she'd called home for the past three years. The police or the building manager must have had someone come in and clean up a bit as she didn't think it was as ransacked as it had been when she came by before going to Devereaux's. She pushed from the door and went into her bedroom to pack another set of clothing in a back pack along with the most treasured of her family photographs in case something happened while she was away. Alex also took the time to change clothes on the off-chance Erik was looking for her. She might as well make it as difficult as possible. She was on her way to the door when the shrill ring of the telephone nearly caused her to jump completely out of her skin. Caller ID showed only "Private" so she decided to ignore it and let the machine pick up. Her hand was on the door knob when the beep sounded followed by the silky smooth tones of Erik Devereaux.

"Alexandra, you're only putting yourself into more danger with this foolishness. I will be waiting downstairs. Don't take too long and make me fetch you." The abrupt message ended with the click of a phone hanging up. Damn, his voice was sexy even when pissed off. Shaking her head at that random thought, Alex tried to think of another way out of the building. There was no way she was going out the front where she knew he would be waiting.

A sudden thought had her rushing up the stairs to the next floor. Her apartment was close enough to street level that there were no fire escapes; however, the next floor had one down the hall on the opposite end of the stairwell. Thankful that most of the building's inhabitants were either college students in class or at work at this time of day, Alex made it to the fire escape with no problems. Once she was climbing down the ladder to the alley, she breathed a small sigh of relief. Now she just had to make it to her car unseen and then she could drive to the lake house.

Looking around somewhat nervously, Alex entered the parking garage and started towards her car. She'd been careful and didn't think she'd been seen but still had the feeling she was being watched. She had almost put the key into the lock when a hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her away from the car. Fear shot through her which only intensified when she looked up to see Erik's smoldering golden eyes.

"Just what in _hell_ do you think you're doing?" He shouted as he towered over her. The hand on her wrist tightened and he gave her a shake. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Of course not," Alex retorted while trying to pull her arm from his iron grip. "But I'm not sure I'd be any safer with _you_ than on my own and I much prefer my own company." She tugged at her arm again and wondered how a man who was so slim could be so strong; she might as well try to pull down one of the supports for the garage.

"Stupid little twit," Erik sneered and pulled her closer to glare down at her. "You really don't have any idea what you've stumbled into, do you? If you had succeeded in unlocking your car, it would have been the very last thing you'd have _ever_ done. The damn car is rigged to blow." Her eyes widened in shock and she glanced over at her car.

"You're lying." The strong words she'd planned to say died on her tongue and she slowly brought her eyes back to his. "That only happens in the movies, right?"

"If you don't believe me, then go ahead." Erik dropped her wrist and gestured towards her car. Alex looked between him and the car as she tried to return circulation to her fingers. The left side of his face was just as expressionless as the right and he arched a brow enquiringly. "Well? We're rather exposed here so make your decision soon." Alex shook her head and gave a defeated sigh.

"Yeah, ok fine. Whatever. Let's just go."

Erik nodded and took her upper arm in a firm grip, though one not so bruising as before. As he walked her to his car, she noticed his eyes darting around and could feel the tension in his body. Did he really expect someone to try something in the middle of the day? No one even knew she had gone to her apartment so how could they be watching her? When they reached the car without incident, she breathed easily once more. His tension was starting to affect her and she was glad to have the small space between them allowed by the gear shift.

They rode in tense silence once more. Alex kept her eyes determinedly on the passing scenery while Erik concentrated solely on his driving. She refused to read the letter Sammy sent her while trapped in the car with _him_; if she fell apart again she didn't want him to be a witness. She also didn't know how she was going to access the information on the flash drive when her laptop was still sitting in the trunk of her car. Alex wasn't sure she wanted to turn the drive over to Devereaux or even al-Zahir. While it may provide answers about Sammy's death, it was still the last connection she had to her brother. Pulling her purse closer, she decided she'd wait until she read the letter before telling anyone about the flash drive.

"Can you see behind us without turning around, Miss Roberts?" Erik's voice was quiet and his eyes were on the rear view mirror as much as on the road ahead. Alex looked at the side mirror but the angle was wrong so she pulled out her compact and dusted some powder over her face as she watched a black SUV draw closer. "He's been following us since we left your parking garage. I only mention it now due to the fact that we're on a long stretch of empty highway and he's getting closer. He'll make his move shortly. Where are the contents of the envelope?"

"I…in my purse. What do you think…"

"Give it to me," Erik interrupted sharply. "If something happens, you do _not_ need to be carrying it nor do you want to leave it in the car."

"But…I…"

"Now!" That honeyed voice was cold as ice as he held out his hand. Alex searched through her purse and brought out the small drive. She gripped it tightly in her hand as she stared at him, remembering his fury and threat from earlier and trying to decide if she should trust him. "**Alexandra**." His voice was soft, persuasive, and caressed her name like a lover. It seemed to come from everywhere and no where; almost too low to hear and yet echoed in her mind like thunder. "**Give it to me; I'll keep it safe. Trust me.**" Dazed, she placed the device into his hand and felt his fingers stroke hers as he pulled back. A shudder ran down her spine and she withdrew her hand quickly, placing it in her lap. Her fingers tingled from where they'd brushed against his and she forced herself not to rub them.

Confused and distracted, she didn't notice that the other vehicle had closed the distance between them until Erik grabbed her and pushed her flat on the seat. Barely a second passed before they heard gunshots and the windows in the car shattered. With a scream, Alex covered her head with her hands as more shots were fired. Erik yanked the steering wheel causing the car to swerve suddenly and crash against the larger vehicle. The other driver desperately tried to maintain control as the SUV was forced onto the shoulder. Once it was back onto the road, it accelerated quickly to regain its lost speed and began to gain on the Taurus.

"Glove box! Give me the weapon and stay down." He barked quickly, his eyes constantly darting between the road and the black SUV. After a short search, Alex pulled out a matte black M9A1 Baretta 9mm pistol. Quickly she checked the magazine, set it to double-action semiautomatic, slipped off the safety, and passed it over to Erik. She missed his speculative glance as she returned her attention to check for additional magazines. She pulled out a box of rounds and an empty magazine, loading it as quickly as her shaking hands were able.

"Hold the wheel; keep it straight." Once she had control of the wheel, Erik took aim and fired into the SUV. When Alex rose slightly to check where the car was on the road, he swore and pushed her head back down, covering her with his body as more shots tore into the car. "Stay down, dammit!" he growled before sitting up and shooting into the SUV once more. Erik smiled in grim satisfaction at the spray of blood that hit the windshield. When the larger vehicle started to swerve wildly, he accelerated and took the wheel from Alex. He drove for several miles before he pulled onto the shoulder and allowed her to sit up.

"You need to drive, Alexandra." She looked over at him in surprise and noticed the spreading stain on his left shoulder.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Not one. Dang it.

**Chapter 11**

**Oct. 15 –5:30pm**

"_You need to drive, Alexandra." She looked over at him in surprise and noticed the spreading stain on his left shoulder. _

It took them longer to reach the estate than Alex would have liked. The drive was once again mostly quiet other than periodic inquiries concerning Erik's health or to verify directions. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white and tried to think of anything other than the sounds of gunshots or the smell of blood in the air. Knowing her passenger was injured, she felt uneasy talking to him when he should be resting and preserving his strength. He might be the most frightening, obstinate, ill-tempered, sexy man she'd ever met who had earlier sent her running from him like all the hounds of hell were after her, and yet he was injured now because of her. She couldn't shake that one thought. Hard on its heels was the additional realization that he had probably…no, definitely saved her life today. It was humbling. It was terrifying.

Erik felt only the slightest twinge of guilt at letting Alex think he was injured worse than he really was. The wound in his shoulder bled a lot, but preliminary assessment was that the bullet had passed straight through, missing bone. He doubted there would be another attack tonight and this gave him a legitimate excuse to study his lovely companion. Erik had shifted to lounge comfortably against the passenger door, his eyes open to mere slits so he could watch her undisturbed. She was such a confusing, exasperating female that he couldn't put her into any one category. He had frightened her earlier when she'd mentioned his mask; the damn thing always put him on the defensive and brought out his temper. Alex hadn't cowered long under the weight of his fury. No, instead, she had planned out a way to escape him and his abrupt anger. He was pleasantly surprised at her courage and resourcefulness; the plan was well conceived and nearly flawless in execution. Nearly. Unfortunately, the flaw was a major one: her destination. The very last place she should have gone was to her apartment as it was the most logical. It was easy enough to deduce that if she left, she'd need more clothing and her vehicle. He decided to humor her but, after waiting for several minutes for Alex to leave the building, he was forced to call in order to hasten her departure. He had seen a couple of shadows making their way to the complex and somehow he just knew they weren't residents or friendly visitors. Either they'd seen her go into the building or he hadn't been the only one who'd noticed her disappearing act from the post office. Again, she proved her intelligence by using the fire escape at the rear of the building instead of taking the risk of running into him and thus the watchers. These traits would help her in the days to come when things got even more dangerous.

Once they'd left the town behind, the traffic had begun to thin until the only lights to be seen were the moon overhead and the twin headlights of their car. As deserted as the road had become, he quickly and easily noticed the black SUV slowly gaining on them. He had decided not to mention it to Alex at first, hoping he could outpace them. That had almost proven to be a costly mistake when he'd barely gotten her head down before the first hail of bullets. Erik had expected her to go into hysterics or freeze up in fear; her frightened scream had backed that initial thought. But then he'd asked for the weapon he kept in the glove box…Where in hell had she learned to handle a pistol with such efficiency? There had been nothing in her file concerning any type of small weapons training. The way she checked the weapon and prepared it for use let him know she'd done it many times in the past; it had been so smooth, so instinctive. She had even loaded a fresh magazine in case he needed it. He made a mental note to inquire about that later when they were both better rested.

As the car pulled up to the gate, he quietly gave her the access code while noticing her pallor and how tightly she gripped the wheel. She had fought it the entire trip back but, now that the danger had passed and they were safe inside his estate, shock was beginning to set in. The lingering smells of blood and gunpowder weren't helping to keep the fear at bay. He directed her to park at the front door and moved around the car to help her inside. Once he'd seated her in the Library, something inside her broke and Alex began to shake all over, taking in great, gulping breaths of air and yet feeling like she was suffocating. Erik held her hands and spoke quietly in his most persuasive voice; he had to calm her or she'd never stop hyperventilating. As her breathing slowed, her eyes darted fearfully around the room seeing nothing until they fell on him, a beacon to guide her to safety. With a cry, she flung her arms around his waist and sobbed against his chest. She could feel his long, nimble musician's fingers stroking her hair and it was so calming, so soothing...so _safe_. The soft strokes of his fingers and the warmth of his angelic voice lulled her into a fitful sleep. Erik laid her gently on the sofa and covered her with a blanket before climbing the stairs to his room in order to tend to his shoulder.

In less than ten minutes, Erik had returned to the Library wearing a clean shirt over his bandaged wound. Moving silently to the desk, he pulled his laptop from the main drawer and watched Alex while it booted up. Her sleep was far from restful; however, plagued as it was with nightmares. There would be moments of peaceful slumber shattered by agitated tossing and turning and small whimpers of fear. He hoped she'd be able to handle the days to come; it would only get worse before it got better. Of that he was certain. As the muffled beep pulled his attention back to the computer, Erik quickly checked email. If al-Zahir had discovered any new information, he would have sent him a quick message to arrange a meet. Erik wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed to find his inbox empty; no news isn't always good news in this business. Knowing there was nothing to be gained in needless worry, he pulled the flash drive from his pocket and inserted it into the USB port. He only hoped what was on this small device had been worth young Samuel's death.

**Oct. 15 –6:00pm**

Alex slowly returned to wakefulness to the faint clicking of someone typing on a keyboard. Opening her eyes, she lay quietly and watched Erik at the computer. How could someone who was so frightening at the same time be so gentle and seem so safe? Her host was so complex and contradictory. _And gorgeous and sexy_, a little voice whispered in her head. Frowning, she pushed the thought away. There was no way she could fall for a man like him nor could he ever fall for her. They were entirely too dissimilar. After his anger in the car, she had expected him to be furious after grabbing her in the parking garage. However, he seemed to have taken her escape in stride, almost like he'd expected her to try to run from him. And then, after everything, there was the way he had protected her in the car.

Closing her eyes she could still feel Erik's hand on the back of her head as he pushed her into the seat, still see the glass shattering and falling around her in that first hail of bullets. Mere seconds had separated her from life and death. Mere seconds…and the reflexes of a man she was certain wished her anywhere but in that car beside him. In those few seconds, she'd gotten a quick look at the shooter and his look of unholy glee had shaken her to the core. It hadn't been a job for him. He wasn't trying to kill them for money or material gain though she was certain he wouldn't turn it down. No, he had enjoyed it, enjoyed inflicting pain and fear, causing death and destruction. In that one look, those few seconds, Alex knew they'd never stop until they had what they wanted. Only death satisfied men like that. Hot tears seeped from her closed eyelids; she had thought she was scared before but now she was truly terrified. If it hadn't been for Erik… He had protected her, killed for her, and taken a bullet for her. Even now, he was trying to help her. And for what? What reason could he have?

"Why?" Alex had whispered the question aloud without thinking. When Erik's head snapped up from the monitor and his golden eyes caught hers, she attempted to clarify. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?"

"Why? Because I was asked to as a favor for an old friend; because if the person behind this is who I think it is, then I feel partly responsible. And," he shrugged elegantly as he stood and began pacing, "because people like you should never have to deal with people like them."

"Oh." Alex followed his movements, reminded of a panther prowling his territory. "You saved my life." She sat up and folded the blanket to mask her shaking hands. "I know it's not nearly enough, but…thank you."

"Alexandra." Erik took the blanket from her hands and waited for her to look up at him. Slowly, light green eyes met amber and were captured in the tenderness of his gaze. "You did wonderfully today, my dear. There is no need to thank me."

Blushing at his praise and the soft glow of his eyes, Alex glanced around the room to find some way of changing the subject. When she saw the laptop open at the top of his desk, she remembered the package her brother had sent. Perhaps the small drive would provide some answers as to why all this was happening.

"Have you discovered anything from the flash drive Sam sent me?"

**A/N: Thank you to all who've reviewed my little story thus far and placed it on favorites. Reviews are lovely and constructive criticism is greatly encouraged. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. I only own Alexandra on days that end in "Y". Please review if wish :)

**Chapter 12**

**Oct. 15 –6:30pm**

"_Have you discovered anything from the flash drive Sam sent me?"_

"No, but I'm hoping you will." When Alex looked surprised, he placed the laptop on the table beside her. "It's password protected. Do you think you can open it?" She looked up from the screen and was caught in Erik's amber gaze. It seemed like minutes but was no more than a few seconds when she remembered he'd asked her a question. Dragging her eyes back to the screen that patiently awaited a password before revealing its secrets, she frowned and shook her head.

"I'm not sure. He never reused them like I do; most things I access online have some variation of the same password. It helps me remember." She drummed her fingers on the table as questions spun through her head. Questions only Sam could answer. "Why would you send me something that was locked, Sammy?" Alex murmured softly. "You should have told me the…wait! The letter!" She jumped up quickly and then regretted it as the room shifted under her feet. Stumbling, Erik caught her before she could fall, one brow quirked in inquisitive amusement.

"If you will tell me where to find this letter, Alexandra, I will get it for you. You seem none too steady on your feet still." Nodding, cheeks on fire only partially from the embarrassment of nearly tumbling to the ground, Alex was frozen in his arms. With her hands pressed against his warm, hard chest, she could feel the steady beating of his heart against her fingertips. Her common sense wandered off in disgust as she marveled at the feel of him; he didn't seem to have an ounce of fat. She could feel his muscles flexing with even the slightest of movements and a shudder ran from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes and everywhere in between. "Alexandra?" Amusement tinted his angelic voice and she looked up at him in confusion. "The letter? From your brother?"

Alex blinked; then blinked again before his words penetrated the fog in her brain. She backed away slowly and sat on the sofa before her shaking legs gave up the effort to keep her upright. Raising her hands to her cheeks, she didn't think it possible to blush so deeply that it hurt. Until now, that is. Dropping her eyes and hands to her lap, she was mortified at groping him like a hormone crazed school girl. Good Lord, she barely knew the man, wasn't too certain she even liked him very much, yet here she was slowly melting into a puddle at his feet with a single touch. She really needed a boyfriend. Soon. Struggling to regain her composure, she quietly asked him for her purse. Erik handed her the bag but didn't release it immediately once she had taken it, speaking only once she'd dragged her eyes to his tender ones.

"Do not be embarrassed, _ma petite_. It was a joy to hold you in my arms." He released the large bag in order to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear. As he pulled away, he slowly ran his finger along the edge of her jaw and up to trace her lips, lingering there for a second longer before moving to sit in the nearby armchair.

Stunned, Alex didn't move for several minutes. Then, unconsciously, she raised a hand to trace the path of his caress, shivering at the fire he left upon her skin. Fire she still felt even after he moved away. Never had a simple touch reduced her to such a state of confusion and longing and sheer, unbridled hunger. She felt like one of the many instruments in his music room that he played to perfection and the intensity of her desire to see just how skilled those graceful fingers were frightened her to her very core.

His golden eyes had turned a molten amber as Erik watched her drift along the edge of desire. He, too, could feel the tingling of his fingertips where he'd caressed her silken skin. Though he maintained his usual outer calm demeanor, inside he was on fire. He wanted to taste the nectar of her lips, glide his hands along every inch of her body, and bury himself deep inside her until they both found the pinnacle of ecstasy together. He shifted in the chair, growing increasingly uncomfortable in his fitted jeans. Becoming attached to this woman, any woman, was out of the question. Once more Erik hoped this situation would resolve itself soon so he could return to the theatre and the willing arms of an ambitious actress.

As if emerging from a daze, Alex retrieved a folded sheet of paper from the bag in her lap and scanned its contents quickly. Chewing on her lower lip, she typed something in and pressed the Enter key. Erik's gaze darted between the monitor and her profile; anxious to see if what she'd typed was the correct password, yet also curious as to what she was feeling. She had yet to look at him since he'd touched her. When the laptop's screen shifted and displayed several folders instead of the password request, Alex smiled faintly and shook her head.

"You always were the sentimental one, Sam," she whispered softly. "Now, let's see what you stumbled into."

Erik moved to sit beside her on the sofa, ignoring the sudden tension in her shoulders and back as he leaned over her. As she cycled through the folders on the flash drive, he could see nothing that would have gotten the young man killed. Most were simple text documents in the crudest form, some appeared to be formulae, but they hit the jackpot in the folder containing nothing but photographs. Alex opened them up as a slide show and watched as they cycled by.

"It looks like a military base…the types of buildings, the layout." She frowned as the pictures continued to change until she stopped it at a picture of what appeared to be a guard shack at a gate. There was a sign attached to the fence just under the concertina wire that contained what she assumed to be the name of the facility in Cyrillic letters.

**Кировск химической и электронный центр развития оружия***

"It's a research facility," Erik stood abruptly and ran a hand through his hair while he paced. "The location appears to match the coordinates your brother wrote on that piece of scrap paper but this," he gestured towards the monitor, "brings up even more questions."

"Why?" Alex's eyes followed his nervous pacing. "Can you read – what is that? What does the sign say?" Erik moved to the desk and removed the papers he'd placed there the night before.

"Your brother wasn't surfing the internet to play simple hacker games of tearing down security walls just because he could; he was looking into the deaths of your parents. Unfortunately for him, he was discovered obtaining this information and they had to remove him before he jeopardized them any more."

"Them?" Alex's voice shook slightly. "Them…who?"

"More than likely agents of or hired mercenaries for the GRU – Russia's Main Intelligence Directorate; the equivalent of our DIA. The Defense Intelligence Agency." He clarified when she still looked confused. "Intelligence gathering and monitoring is their primary mission. They may not have been the ones who physically neutralized your parents and brother but they would have been the ones providing information to whoever did. This," he waved a hand indicating the laptop, "is a weapons development facility whose focus is chemical and electronic research.

"If I had to guess, it remained hidden from our satellites due to the high mountains surrounding it as well as the mining sites. Our satellites may have overlooked it as another mine shaft or mineral processing plant. They would not want this information in the wrong hands. I'll get Da'ud to contact a few friends in the Agency and see if they can uncover anything concerning the photos."

"But what do we do until then?" Alex stood and began pacing in agitation. "Do we just sit here and hope for the best and that they don't find me? I have to **do **something, Erik! These people killed my brother; they killed my parents. Now, they're after me and I…I…" Tears filled her eyes and she wondered how she still had tears left to cry. It seemed that's all she'd been doing lately. Moving to the sofa, she sat heavily and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm scared."

"I will protect you," his voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket, soft and beautiful. "I won't let anything or anyone hurt you while you are in my care."

"It's never going to end," Alex wrapped her arms around her torso and looked up at him, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Is it?" Against his better judgment, Erik sat beside her on the sofa and took her gently into his arms. His fingers threaded through her hair as he stroked it and placed a kiss, soft as a butterfly's wing, on the top of her head.

"It will. I promise."

**A/N - * roughly translates to the Kirovsk Chemical and Electronic Warfare Facility (if my translator worked correctly).**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Duh!

**Chapter 13**

**Oct. 18 –8:30am**

The next few days passed uneventfully and with little contact between the two residing at the estate. Alex spent most of her time in the Library while Erik composed in the Music Room. Though she actually read very little, the warm sun streaming through the windows and the deep, muted colors of the décor were soothing. She had hoped to use the laptop to work on her résumé and send a few emails out to friends and family to let them know she was well. She managed to get her résumé completed; however, both her host and the detective advised her against any contact with someone other than the two of them. Known friends would be monitored by those who were hunting her, they said, and it was best for them to believe her missing or even dead in order to keep them safe. Alex acknowledged the logic and understood their concern but she was frustrated at having to put her life on hold. She was certain she'd been fired from her job and was probably looking at eviction from her apartment. If she didn't make the payment at the end of the month, her car would be repossessed as well; not a good way to begin her post-university life. When she finally brought up her financial concerns with Erik and Da'ud, they assured her it was all being taken care of and not to worry. She wouldn't have been surprised if one of them had patted her on the head like an inquisitive child.

By the second day, when none of the many books could hold her attention, Alex removed the papers from the desk drawer to see if anything new would come to mind. She laid the calendar pages out on the desk in chronological order, setting the others aside. Just as she was about to close the drawer, she noticed the stack of photographs. Pulling them out, she was horrified to see her brother's body lying in a pool of his own blood in her apartment. She flipped through the pictures slowly and was amazed at the cruelty of Sam's attackers. His face was bruised and cut like he'd been in a fight. He had multiple gunshot wounds. Alex struggled against fresh tears at the realization that her brother had been tortured before he'd died. What kind of monsters could do such a thing to another human being? She had hoped it'd been quick, painless, but here was proof that Sam had suffered and horribly so. Wiping her eyes, she replaced the photographs and turned her attention to the papers. There had to be a reason these were kept and not newer ones as some were recent yet others were nearly a month old. Feeling useful for the first time since she'd been told of her brother's death, Alex searched for a paper and pencil and started making notes of possible connections.

While Alex puzzled over the discarded papers in the Library, Erik struggled to complete one of the final songs of his latest work. He never worked well when others were present and he was very aware of his guest's presence in his home. He freely acknowledged that he had been purposely avoiding her; neither of them needed to let the emotions of the situation coax them into doing something they'd both regret. Alex was terribly vulnerable at the moment, even if she'd never admit it, and he wasn't about to take advantage of that for his own lustful pleasures. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine her beneath him squirming in ecstasy as he let his lips and hands taste and touch every inch of her smooth, soft skin. He shuddered at the thought of being buried deep into her warm body, hearing her cries of pleasure, feeling her nails on his back…

Erik growled in frustration and threw yet another sheet of paper into the trash. That blasted woman was driving him mad! He rose so quickly the piano bench fell over with a loud bang. Prowling around the room like a lion caught in a cage, he tried to think of anything but Alex. Oh but she was such a delectable little thing; clever, strong, resourceful and yet soft, tender, vulnerable. He wanted to test her just to watch the fire dance in her pale green eyes, hold her close and vow to keep her safe from those who'd harm her, challenge her and watch her rise to the occasion. With a groan, he rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window, gazing out at the riot of autumn colors in the nearby wood. This lustful obsession had to stop before he ravished the chit. She didn't seem the type for casual sex with no strings; no, she was the 'bring home to meet the parents' forever type. Which translated to 'not his type' at all.

**Oct. 18 –11:00am**

While Erik was struggling with his raging libido, Alex was also struggling. The calendar pages didn't seem to be related in any way. The dates seemed random; there were no notes or appointments written on any of them, no writing of any kind. There had to be a connection else they would have all been consecutive, recent dates. Crumpling a sheet of paper and tossing it in the trash, she stood and stretched before wandering into the kitchen. It was close enough to lunch time and maybe stepping away would help her think of something she'd missed or forgotten to check. Gathering the ingredients for a sandwich, Alex's thoughts wandered to her host. He'd been composing in the Music Room and the parts that had filtered in to her had brought her to tears several times. He was such a contradiction; gentle yet strong, violent yet tender, aloof yet hospitable. He was dark and dangerous and sexy as hell, the way he moved was so sinfully delicious it was probably illegal in some states, and those eyes...it was like he could look straight into your soul. Shuddering, she imagined those long, musician's hands playing desire's melody across her skin. No, no, no. This had to stop! She wanted more than just sex from a relationship, no matter how much the man made her turn into a puddle of goo with just a look. And she was pretty certain Erik Devereaux wasn't the dinner and a movie type; oh no, he was more the 'Paris vacation fling' type. Definitely not her type at all.

With a sigh, she picked up her plate and moved to the small table to eat, trying to put her mind to something other than Erik. Nothing good could come of this fascination and if she let herself fall for the man, it'd be a total disaster. The papers. Yes, that's what she should be concentrating on, not her enigmatic, moody host. While she ate, Alex pulled her thoughts back to Sam and wondered just what was so important about those particular dates. He rarely left the apartment and she thought he'd told her about any doctor's appointments or meetings with the parole board. None of the dates were birthdays or anniversaries of any of their known family members, living or dead. Really, the only thing he'd ever used that calendar for was the trivia questions. Her sandwich was halfway to her mouth when it struck her: the trivia questions! That had to be it!

Abandoning her meal, Alex ran back to the Library to test her theory and collided with Erik's lean, muscled chest. His arms instinctively snaked around her waist to steady her. Looking up, she was struck mute at the warm glow of amusement in his golden eyes and the hint of a smile that played along his lips. Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous? Alex blushed and stammered an apology while stepping out of his loose embrace. With all her effort going towards not flinging herself right back into his arms, she didn't realize he'd spoken until he gently grasped her arm to halt her retreat.

"Are you alright, Alexandra? You look a bit flushed." His voice was silky smooth and caused her blush to deepen. Slowly she removed her arm from his hold.

"Y…yes," She stammered, looking anywhere but at him. "I'm fine, Mr. Devereaux, really…just…"

"Erik."

"What? Oh, ok, um, Erik. Anyway, I just thought of something and was trying to, you know, get back." Risking a glance at his face, she took a step back and motioned to the doorway. "To the Library."

"Very well," he motioned for her to lead the way. "What have you discovered?"

Alex took a deep breath as she returned to the Library, trying to steady her racing pulse. Her body still tingled everywhere it had touched his; she could still feel his heartbeat against her fingers. The arguments against crawling into Erik's bed and ravishing him until he kicked her back out were getting lost somewhere. She reminded herself that she wasn't one for casual sex and then immediately thought that there'd be nothing casual about sex with him. He was a musician after all; one who played many instruments with such beauty that she was certain he could play her just as expertly. Blushing, she risked a glance at him as she sat behind his desk and was caught in his golden orbs. The amused arch of his brow in question deepened the red on her cheeks until she feared they'd catch fire. Desperately, she tried to focus on the calendar pages instead of ripping off his clothing and having her wicked way with him. It was quite the struggle.

"I think we've been going about this the wrong way," she stared down at the papers, refusing to look at him and risk giving in to her baser urges. "For the past two days I've been looking at these papers with no luck but I wasn't looking at the right thing. I've been so focused on the dates, trying to understand their importance, when it's not the dates at all. Sam had little use for a calendar; he rarely went anywhere and I kept track of his medical and parole appointments." Alex risked a quick glance at him as she made notes on a fresh sheet of paper. Seeing that she had his attention, she turned the pages around so he could read them, arranging them in order. "I believe I told you how Sam loved to catch me on the trivia. It was part of our daily routine. Every morning, we'd eat breakfast, discuss the news, and plan dinner for that night. Just as I left for school or work, he'd ask that day's trivia; I'd give him my best guess when I got home that afternoon. The _trivia_ is what's important about these pages, not the dates." She handed him her notes. "If you answer each question in order by date, it's an address."

Erik read over each question and answer, impressed with both the code and her ability to break it. Using something so personal was a stroke of genius on the boy's part. He moved around the desk to log into his laptop and type the address into a mapping program. The building was located in an industrial section of town that was run down and known for harboring all sorts of shady individuals. It appeared he needed return to town.

**A/N: Thank you again to all who review :) You make my little heart go pitter-patter. Though I'm still several chapters ahead of what I've posted, I've hit a bit of a snag but I'm hoping to get inspiration Saturday in Atlanta when I go see the Music Box Company's production of Phantom of the Opera. I saw them in Austin in the spring and they were wonderful!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 14**

**Oct. 18 – 10:00pm**

For the rest of the day, Erik passed the time calling in favors to obtain the blueprints of the warehouse, information on the last known owners, and police reports on any arrests made there in the past month. He also talked to the detective and arranged to meet him at midnight a block away from the building. During his planning, he could see that his lovely house guest was growing restless, resentful of being kept out of the loop. He knew Alex was going to want to go but he couldn't risk it. They were planning a silent entry under the cover of darkness and she would be a liability. He had no information on what, if any, security measures were in place or if anyone was watching or guarding the building. There were simply too many unknown variables; he refused to add another.

As night fell, he cleaned and dressed his shoulder and then donned an outfit he thought never to wear again. The body hugging material was matte black and moved with him like a second skin. There was nothing hanging off to get caught on barbs or other protrusions that could make noise and alert those within. Carefully, Erik removed the flesh colored latex from his face, grimacing at the red, raw patches on the mangled flesh beneath the mask. Even if it did rub his skin raw in places, the latex mask was ingenious; few even noticed it existed so completely it blended with his skin tone. However, the material was porous and would absorb the body paint he'd use to camouflage his face and never come clean. As he rubbed a soothing cream onto the abrasions, his eyes remained glued to his reflection in the mirror. His lip curled in a sneer as he traced the many scars from the surgeries that he'd hoped would make him look like everyone else. While he reluctantly admitted that they were successful to a degree, enabling him to use a smaller mask than in his younger days, he'd given up on ever looking normal. Turning away from the monster in the mirror, Erik slid the matte black half mask over his deformity and left his room in a foul mood.

Alex had been pacing the hallway at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him. She wanted so desperately to go with him but logic stated that she'd be more hindrance than help. When Erik appeared at the top of the stairs, it was like seeing a dark angel fallen to earth. He had a weapon in a holster strapped under his left arm, a knife in a boot sheath, and what looked to be a thin rope hanging from his right hip. His was a deadly, terrible beauty and she shivered with both dread and excitement as she watched him stalk down the stairs. He was the Angel of Death and she was eternally grateful that, for now, he was on her side. She felt her cheeks burn when her eyes met his golden ones and realized she'd been staring at him in open admiration.

"Do I meet with your approval, Alexandra?" His low murmur full of amusement and unholy beauty wrapped around her and stole her breath. She took an involuntary step back and clasped her hands tightly in front of her to keep them from reaching for him.

"Um…" Her brain had gone on holiday and appeared to have taken her tongue with it. "Oh. Yes, of course, Mr. Devereaux." He just chuckled, a soft rumble of musical notes.

"Erik, please." He rested a hip against the baluster, arms crossed; the relaxed pose betrayed none of his impatience to leave for the warehouse. "Now, did you wish to speak to me?"

"Yes," Alex tore her eyes from his and forced her brain cells to resume proper function, "I want to go with you…" When he made to interrupt, she raised a hand to stop him. "Please, hear me out. I want to go but I understand that I can't enter the warehouse with you. I'd only be a liability. But can I at least ride with you? I'll stay in the car to provide look out, a quick get away, moral support, something, _anything_? I hate feeling so useless and dependent on others to do everything for me."

Erik tilted his head slightly in thought. He was both surprised, and yet not, that her common sense and logic had overruled her natural inclination to want to be a part of the operation. Though she could prove an asset if she stayed in the car on radio, he was hesitant to allow her anywhere near those who wanted her captured or dead. No, she needed to stay here.

"I need you to stay here, Alexandra," he noted the disappointment in her eyes as well as stubborn determination. "I need you somewhere safe and alone in a car in the middle of the industrial block definitely does not meet that criteria. However, you won't be idle." He led her to the Library and wrote down the login and password for his laptop, brought the police band scanner to the desk, as well as handing her a small 2-way radio earpiece. "What I need you to do is monitor the police frequency and notify me if there are any calls in the block around the warehouse. Also, pull up the blueprints of the building in case we have to make a hard exit." Catching the expression on her face, he trailed a gloved finger along her jaw line then nudged her chin so he could look into her eyes. "This isn't just busy work, Alexandra, but I can't deny I want you to remain here. I can't concentrate on the operation if I'm worrying about your safety."

At her nod, Erik stepped away and brought from a locked drawer a duplicate of the Beretta she'd seen in his car. He laid it on the desk along with a spare magazine then left for the garage. Alex moved to the window to watch as he sped away on an eerily quiet motorcycle. With a sigh, she sat at the desk, placed the small device over her ear, and turned on the police band radio. It was going to be a long, slow night.

**Oct. 19 – 12:10am**

Erik pulled alongside al-Zahir's unmarked Monte Carlo. Quietly he explained Alex's role for the night and the detective was glad she'd been convinced to remain in the safety of the Estate. The two men easily slid back into the roles they'd both given up five years ago; checking the radios, synchronizing their watches, and double checking their weapons. While they hoped to avoid contact that night, they weren't crazy enough to enter the lion's den unprepared. Signaling their readiness, the two men blended expertly into the shadows and stealthily made their way to the warehouse.

Silently skirting the perimeter of the building, the former agents noted the lack of visible guards or patrols. Surely it hadn't been left unattended? Suspecting a trap, Erik motioned for al-Zahir to find cover. For several minutes they watched the rear door facing a small alley until a brief flare of a match rewarded their patience. The guards were inside and not professionally trained. With a nod to his partner, the masked man glided to the door and unwrapped the cording at his hip. They needed answers and he planned on convincing one of the guards to be cooperative. Once he was in place, al-Zahir grabbed a bottle from the trash littering the alley and, staggering past the door, began singing a bawdy pub song. He was off key, off tempo, slurred the words, and generally mangling the song in so many ways as to make Erik cringe and swear never to allow his friend to sing again. However, it did accomplish its goal for the door opened and the smoking guard exited the building. The moment the door clicked shut, the thin cording tied into the intricate Punjab lasso flew across the distance to catch the man around his throat. With a tug, the guard was on his knees struggling for his every breath. Al-Zahir searched him quickly and removed the pistol and knife the man was carrying. Erik handed the lasso to the detective, allowing it to loosen a fraction, and moved in front of the helpless guard. At the sudden stench of ammonia from the dark patch growing on the guard's trousers, Erik's yellow eyes glowed with malicious glee while he explained in vivid detail the consequences of silence and loyalty.

**A/N - Tim Martin Gleason is an awesome Phantom and a really nice guy. Sean MacLaughlin is a gorgeous Raoul and all around friendly person. Kelly Grant makes a wonderful Christine and had to have once been a cheerleader she was so bubbly! Yes, the National Tour once again impressed. If this comes anywhere near you, GO SEE IT! It is the final year of the touring company so you won't get another chance without going to New York or London.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 15**

**Oct. ****19 – 12:25am**

The dark, filthy alley was silent; the guard's stammering attempts to save his own skin fading into nothingness under the glare of the hypnotic golden eyes. He'd told them all he knew, of that the black-clad men were certain, but now the question was what to do with him while they infiltrated the warehouse. Erik looked to al-Zahir with one brow raised in question; reluctantly, the detective gave a nearly imperceptible nod and turned towards the door. They couldn't afford to have the man catching them off guard or raising the alarm but that didn't mean al-Zahir had to like it. The sharp snap echoed in the night making him flinch; he wasn't looking forward to the paperwork for that one. Erik unceremoniously dumped the body in a large industrial dumpster and rejoined his partner at the door.

Since the door opened into the alley, it was easy enough to block the meager light that might have filtered through when they eased it open. Erik, being the taller of the two, placed himself between the door and the dim streetlight as al-Zahir slipped in. Once he was given the all clear, the masked man slipped soundlessly into the room. The small chamber appeared to have once been an office of some sort, containing a beat up, rusty metal desk, a broken rolling chair, and toppled over filing cabinets. From the syringes and rubber hoses amongst the debris that had been swept to either side of the room, it had once been the hang out of drug users. Opposite the door they entered through was another that was barely hanging onto the frame by a single hinge. They both had crouched down to use the gaps to observe the room when the radio in Erik's ear gave a crackle of static followed by Alex's quiet voice.

"Erik…police are responding to a domestic disturbance call two buildings north of you."

"Roger that." At the detective's nod, they both settled behind the door to wait. The sirens should be close enough to provide adequate distraction for them to enter the main section of the building.

True to the curiosity intrinsic to human nature, the guards all turned to watch the police cruiser as it drove past the warehouse with lights and sirens; one even opened the front door to see where it was going. Like a pair of living shadows, Erik and al-Zahir slipped soundlessly into the room and made for cover on opposite sides. They hoped to make their way to the stairs on the southern wall unseen, but if that wasn't possible, the cross-fire would give them an advantage over the greater number of guards. They were within twenty feet of the stairwell when one guard stepped out front to light up a cigarette. The light through the open door swallowed up the shadows hiding al-Zahir as he moved from pillar to desk to garbage pile. Before he could drop from view, the smoker directed the two at the stairs to investigate. With their cover blown, a soft entry and exit was no longer feasible.

**Oct. ****19 – 1:15am**

Alex moved from the desk to pour yet another cup of coffee. It had been a long day and she was struggling to stay awake. The police radio crackled with non-stop chatter but nothing was within a two block radius of the warehouse since that initial call. She hadn't heard anything from the detective or Erik since then either and hoped the silence on the earpiece meant everything was going smoothly. She was standing in kitchen preparing a fresh pot of coffee when both the police band radio and the earpiece exploded with noise and caused her to drop the carafe on the slate floor. Letting loose a string of curses that would embarrass the most hardened of sailors, Alex returned to the Library and tried to sort through the information coming through. The glass would have to be cleaned up later.

Turning down the police chatter, she concentrated on Erik first; even through the tinny earpiece his voice was supernal. There had been problems which made a ground floor exit impossible. They needed a quick exit from the second floor. Quickly poring over the blueprints, she found two possible means of escape though one was far riskier than the other.

"Ok…the police traffic has increased exponentially so you'll probably be hearing sirens soon. If I'm reading this thing right, I found only one exit from the second floor; however, there's another on the roof. The second floor has access to the stairwell on the western side of the building facing a small alley."

"Right, we saw it on the way in and should be able to gain access to it. What about the roof?" Erik's voice was hushed but she could hear what sounded like gunshots in the background.

"How far can you jump?"

"What?" This time it was the detective who broke in. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The building to the south of you is approximately the same height with a narrow alley separating them; maybe five-six feet wide at the most. From what I'm seeing on the satellite maps, they both have flat roofs which means you could jump to the next building and exit onto the street from there."

"You're crazy." Al-Zahir stated flatly.

"Perhaps but those are the only exits I see unless you've suddenly sprouted wings or can shimmy down the walls like Spiderman."

"Great job, Alexandra." Erik's smooth tones broke in. "We'll try for the fire escape at first and use the roof as a back up plan. If I'm not back by 6:00am…"

"You'll be back." Her voice shook; she didn't want to even contemplate facing alone the person who could get the drop on Erik Devereaux.

"But if I'm not," his voice was gentle yet firm, "there's a key in my bedroom that goes to the basement. Take the photos, flash drive, papers, and yourself down there and lock the door. There's a phone that has a direct line to someone who will take care of things from there. Understand?"

"But…"

"Do you understand?" The question was both impatient and annoyed; she was wasting time he didn't have. Resigned, all she could do is answer quietly in the affirmative and pray they'd both return safely.

**Oct. ****19 – 2:45am**

Erik supported al-Zahir back to his vehicle, placing him in the passenger seat while he drove towards the Estate. He'd have to come back for the bike later if it wasn't stolen by then. There were policemen surrounding the warehouse already; it had been a close one. They had managed to get to the window that opened onto the fire escape without incident; however, there were iron bars over the glass. Cornered and on the opposite end of the roof access stairs, the two advanced slowly. As one moved to the next pile of debris or abandoned furniture, the other provided cover fire. By the time they'd made it to the stairs, Erik had only four rounds left and al-Zahir had none. Bodies lay strewn along their path like abandoned toys but they could hear more arriving.

The stairs no longer had a door so they couldn't bar it behind them but there was one from the stairwell to the roof. While the detective checked the distance and plausibility of the jump, Erik kept watch over the door. If anyone opened that door, he'd be able to take the first four with him at least. Since there didn't appear to be a ledge on the other building and there wasn't on the warehouse they currently occupied, they decided to make the jump. As Erik was the more agile and strong of the two, he would go first in case al-Zahir fell short of the mark and needed a helping hand. Before jumping, he walked to the edge to gauge the distance then gave his weapon to the detective in case someone tried to come through the door. A quick run up, a jump, and the masked man landed on the other roof and fell into a roll to ease the impact on his knees as well as slow his momentum. Al-Zahir tossed him his weapon and then followed suit. His landing wasn't quite as graceful, however, and both men heard the snap that signaled a broken bone. Erik half carried, half dragged his friend into the building to splint the detective's leg and wait for things to calm down a bit. This was a complication they did not need.

Unfortunately, the only thing they'd found in the warehouse had been gunmen. Either there had never been anything there to begin with…or it had been moved already.

**A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**A/N:** First off, thank you to all who review and follow this story. As a first time fanfic writer, it's very encouraging. Also, I will be changing the rating in the next few chapters. The language already makes it borderline, so I'm not risking it when things get a tad more heated :)

oxoxoxoxoxox

**Chapter 16**

**Oct. 19 – 3:30am**

Alex listened to Erik's story of what had happened in the warehouse as she gathered the medical supplies and other items he'd listed for her. She couldn't help but feel guilty that yet another person was injured because of her and this time it was all for nothing. She had been so certain that she'd interpreted Sam's notes correctly; now she wasn't so sure. What did she know about unlocking codes or figuring out hidden messages? Hell, she couldn't even finish a crossword puzzle without looking at the answers! After laying out the supplies and signing off the radio, Alex returned to the desk and pulled out the papers once more, determined to find where she'd gone wrong. She wasn't letting someone else suffer because of her mistakes again. So engrossed was she in double and triple checking her notes that she didn't hear the car pull up, the door open, or Erik's approach. She shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin when a gloved hand plucked the pen from her fingers.

"Alexandra? Are you alright?" She looked up, a bit unnerved by the intimidating black mask, then over to the sofa where al-Zahir dozed peacefully.

"Yes…I think so. When did you get back?" Exhaustion had come and gone several hours ago leaving her running on pure adrenaline. She stood, rubbing her tired, blood shot eyes, and moved to check on the detective.

"About ten minutes ago." He glanced down at the papers on the desk before following her movements with watchful eyes. "Da'ud will recover quickly; it was a clean break and he's in good shape."

"That's good." Alex tried to smile but never quite succeeded as she busied herself by straightening and packing away the medical supplies. "And you? Are you in any pain or need help changing your bandage? Oh, but maybe you're hungry. I'll go and fix…"

"I'm fine." Erik interrupted and glided over to her to take her hands in his. "What's troubling you, _ma petite_?"

"Oh, Erik," she sighed tearfully, staring at her hands enveloped by his elegant, leather covered ones. "I'm so sorry about all this. First you get shot helping me after I stupidly tried to run away, then…then I messed up with the notes, sending you and the detective off on a wild goose hunt, and now he's injured too and it's all my fault and…and…"

He pulled her gently against him, enfolding her in a comforting embrace while she sobbed against his chest. _'Poor child,'_ he thought. _'She's had to deal with more in the last few days than any normal person should have to in their lifetimes.'_ He held her until her sobs faded into watery hiccups, whispering nonsense words to calm her, and was unsurprised when he felt her sag against him. Worry, guilt, grief, and fear combined with her exhaustion had finally sapped the last of her strength. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her into her room and laid her on the bed. Quietly, he removed her shoes, pulled the blankets over her, and switched off the light before closing the door softly behind him.

**Oct. 19 – 8:15am**

Soft, beautiful music gently pulled Alex from a dreamless sleep. Sitting up, she looked around the room in confusion; the last she remembered was poring over the calendar pages and waiting for Erik and the detective to return. And return they did, she knew, for no one other than her host could coax such sounds from a piano. She slid from the bed and noticed for the first time that she was still dressed in the clothes she had on the day before. Shaking her head, Alex grabbed fresh clothes and moved towards the bathroom; maybe a good shower would wake her up and chase away the cobwebs.

While Alex and Da'ud had been sleeping, Erik had called in a few favors in search of information on the facility in Europe, the owner of the warehouse, as well as who was behind the deaths of Alex's parents and brother. As it would be several hours to gather the necessary data, he returned to the Music Room in hopes of completing at least some of the score for his next Opera,_ Don Juan Triumphant_. The current performances were scheduled to run until the week of Thanksgiving and he wanted to have the scripts available when everyone returned from the holiday break. By the time his guests had begun to stir, he had finished the rough draft of two songs from the final act. He wasn't completely happy with them, they still needed to be refined a bit, but it was a good start. Satisfied that he had accomplished so much, Erik stood and stretched, wincing from the sharp pain in his shoulder. He needed a shower, a clean bandage, and to check on Da'ud's leg.

Entering the Library a half an hour later, he was surprised to find it empty. His golden eyes surveyed the room for signs of a struggle; his security was tight but there was always a chance… The faint murmur of voices, however, drew him to the small breakfast alcove off the kitchen where Alex and Da'ud were sharing a pot of coffee. The detective had his leg propped onto another chair with a cushion from the sofa to keep it off the hard wood of the seat. Alex, refreshed from her shower, had brewed the coffee and made some toast for the two of them and they were now sitting in cozy companionship. Erik leaned against the center island of the kitchen and listened to the two argue over everything from sports to fashion to politics. His guests appeared to be polar opposites on everything which only served to strengthen their camaraderie as they both enjoyed a good debate. He was about to grab a mug and join them when his friend said something to cause Alex to giggle and grab his hand. Scowling when her hand remained with the detective's, Erik turned and left the room.

**Oct. 19 – 9:00am**

Alex helped the detective hobble back to the Library after an enjoyable breakfast. Though Da'ud, as he'd asked to be called, shared none of her views on…well…anything, he enjoyed friendly debate as much as she. Their meal was one of the most enjoyable she'd had in some time. As she propped the detective's leg on the footstool and brought him a couple of books, she was surprised to find the Library empty. She'd been expecting to find Erik there since she hadn't heard anything from the Music Room in some time nor had he shown up for breakfast. Disappointment warred with relief when her host was nowhere in sight; she wasn't entirely certain she could handle his unique intensity so early in the morning.

Sitting at the desk, she booted up the laptop with plans to send a few emails to friends. If the press had reported that Sam's death was murder, Lizzie would be going out of her mind wondering where Alex was; especially since they hadn't spoken since that day. She pulled up a free email program and carefully wrote a message that she would, hopefully, reassure her friend without giving anything else away. Glancing at the inbox, she started deleting all the junk mail with a shake of her head. These companies really needed to get together; she deleted several emails that either wanted to give her bigger boobs or a bigger penis. Ah, spam. The one great constant in life, even moreso than death or taxes. Well, at least taxes. Before she finished clearing out all the junk, she received an email back from Lizzie. Eagerly, Alex opened the message from her friend and then froze in horror.

**You're beginning to annoy us and that's not healthy. Bring the package to the warehouse and we'll make an exchange. Come alone. Failure to do either and we'll get a lot more inventive with her than we did your brother. Friday night, midnight, don't be late. **

Alex couldn't move, could barely breathe; all she could think of were the pictures of Samuel lying in a pool of blood, beaten, shot, dead. The image shifted and it was Lizzie's face she saw. Oh, God! She felt sick. What kind of monsters **were** these people? How did they even know about Lizzie? Frantically, she began looking through the drawers of the desk. She needed that drive! She couldn't let another person get hurt because of her. Not Lizzie, she had done nothing to deserve this. So focused was she that she never heard the detective's concerned inquiries nor his call for help. When Erik's hands closed around her arms, she fought him in her desperation to find the small device that could save her friend. Erik frowned and lifted her from the chair, giving her a shake when she continued to struggle.

"Let me go!" She yelled and jerked away from him, returning to the desk. "What did you do to the drive? Where is it?"

"It's safe," he snapped. His patience with her emotional outbursts was beginning to wear thin. "Why?"

"Give it to me." Alex turned towards him once more and took a step forward with her hand held out, palm up. She prayed he wouldn't be troublesome about this. From the arch of his brow and the set expression on his face, she knew that particular prayer would go unanswered.

"No, not until you tell me what the hell is going on!"

She glared at him fiercely before turning the laptop around for him to read the email she'd received. Alex made an impatient gesture towards the screen. "That is why! I'll be damned if I'm going to be responsible for someone else getting hurt or killed when I can stop it. The drive is mine, sent to me by my brother, and I want it back." In some part of her mind, she knew she sounded like a petulant child but it didn't matter; not if there was a chance she could save Lizzie.

Erik felt some of his anger drain away as he read the message. Rubbing the edge of the mask where it had begun to itch, he wondered if it would be best to tell her the truth or let her hold onto her hope. But no, she deserved to know what kind of people they were up against.

"Alexandra. I'm sorry, _ma petite_, but your friend is already dead."


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters and Alex has informed me to not even presume that I own her.

**A/N:** Again, the rating will change to M soon so be prepared. Thank you again to all who have reviewed. I'm so glad that you are enjoying this little story of mine. :D

xoxoxoxoxox

**Chapter 17**

**Oct. 19 – 9:30am**

_ "Alexandra. I'm sorry, ma petite, but your friend is already dead." _

"But…" horrified, all the blood drained from Alex's face. "But…no! That's not true. They…they said she was still alive; they'd free her if I gave it to them." Shaking her head, she stumbled back away from him and into the bookshelf behind her. She wanted to scream that he was a liar, that he was cruel to tell her such things when they simply couldn't be true, that there was no way to know; but the look in Erik's eyes, so sad and sympathetic, crushed her feeble attempts to avoid the truth. He knew them. If not these exact people, he knew their type and what they were capable of doing. Her friend had died for no reason other than they were friends. In that moment, a part of her innocence died and her faith in humanity suffered a near-fatal blow. Tears filled her eyes but she angrily wiped them away.

_**No more.**_ No more tears, no more cowering in the background while others risk everything for her. She was through being the helpless damsel in distress, through being the victim of cruel fate. It was time to take back her life and if she had to crawl through the beaten and bloodied remains of the monsters who had repeatedly hurt her family, then so be it.

Erik watched the riot of emotions play over Alex's face, the hope fading to despair, despair changing to fear, then fear turning into anger. He could almost hear the thoughts that rushed through her mind and cursed those who had forced her to see just how terrible mankind could truly be. He watched as her naive belief in the innate goodness of people was crushed by the overwhelming evil of these murderers. He could see the advantages this could have in the days to come; it would drive her to keep going, keep fighting, and survive even when it seemed impossible. And yet…still, he mourned its loss for her sake even as he was confused as to why he cared.

"So," Alex was proud that her voice didn't waver. "What do we do now? I think if we want to catch these bastards, we've got to get into their heads and figure out a way to beat them at their own game." She stumbled to the chair on shaky legs while avoiding Erik's steadying hand and watchful gaze. If she accepted his help now, she'd feel as if she'd failed before she'd even begun.

"What did you have in mind, Alexandra?" Erik moved to the desk to perch upon the corner, every movement as graceful as a dancer's.

"Well…" she looked from her host to the detective, a bit nervous to have their full attention. "Granted, I don't have the experience the two of you do in dealing with people like this, but I think they want to separate us. It's a very effective battle strategy, to divide and conquer, since it's a lot easier to pick us off while alone." Erik nodded in agreement; she seemed to have a decent grasp of the situation. "Why not let them think they've succeeded?"

"If they think you're unprotected they'll come for you, Alex, and it won't be straight forward, but from the side or the rear when you least expect it." The detective spoke up for the first time since calling for Erik. "Every time you walk out the door or pass by a window, you'll be putting yourself into a sniper's crosshairs."

"I know and I can't live that that, always looking over my shoulder. That's why we have to take the control from them! Why sit and wait for them to make the first move and dictate the rules? Why not draw them to us instead of constantly meeting them on their turf? I doubt they're expecting me to agree to their terms and walk into a trap that's so obvious even I can see it. Let's suggest a new location that's easier for us to secure. Then, when they come for the drive, we can take one of them and find out who's holding their leash and where we can find them."

"Absolutely not!" Erik rose from the desk abruptly to glare down at her. "Have you lost your mind? This isn't some game, child, or the movies. These are vicious professional killers who enjoy what they do. Setting yourself up as bait isn't a plan, it's suicide!" Alex stared wide-eyed at Erik, surprised to see the hard set to his jaw and anger in his eyes.

"Well, it's better than sitting around doing nothing…"

"Nothing? Is that what you think we're doing? Do you really think we're just sitting around and amusing you while waiting for these people to give up and go away? Sometimes the world moves just a bit slower than a sound bite or 30 minute sit-com." His once-angelic voice now echoed with demonic fury and was practically dripping in sarcasm and scorn. "But if you're so ready to join your parents, brother, and friend on that slab at the morgue, I'm sure we can think of a more creative way to accommodate you."

"How dare you!" Furious, Alex stood and delivered a resounding slap to his bare cheek, unknowingly dislodging the already loosened adhesive that held the mask and sending it flying into the detective's lap. When she lifted her hand to hit him a second time, he grabbed her wrist in a bruising grip then pushed her back into the chair. Before she could move, Erik had his hands on the arms of the chair, effectively trapping her in place. He leaned close, his golden eyes glowing and his deformed face twisted in rage, causing Alex to unconsciously cringe further into the chair.

"I dare because I'm not some silly little chit who wants to play at cops and robbers. This little game you insist you want to play doesn't follow civilized rules like in the movies. These people play to win at any cost. I know them, how they operate, how they think, because I've been one of them. I was the best, in fact. And I know you wouldn't last 5 seconds against them." Abruptly, he stood and stormed off to the Music Room leaving behind a very shaken Alex and a shocked detective.

**Oct. 19 – 10:00am**

Loud, angry music echoed down the hallway into the stunned silence of the Library. Rubbing her wrist, Alex looked over at the detective and then back towards the thundering music with a frown. How did he manage to function in life with such a volatile temper? And the way he dismissed her idea as nothing short of laughable…she had half a mind to follow him to the Music Room and hit him again. A rustling sound from the sofa brought her attention back to the injured detective just as he was attempting to stand.

"Da'ud, what do you think you're doing?" Lingering anger made her tone sharper than she had intended and she winced in chagrin. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you but really…where do you think you're going?"

"When his anger settles, Erik will need his mask." The detective turned the mask over in his hands with a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps you didn't have time to notice the side of his face that this normally covers; however, he would not wish to risk your getting a second look."

"Oh? Yes, I saw it. How could I have avoided it?" She chuckled humorlessly. "He was rather close after all. But I don't see what the issue is. I mean, yeah, it looks like someone enthusiastically took a cheese grater to his face but it's nothing compared to that temper of his."

The detective was at a loss for words. He'd known Erik for years and never had he heard anyone dismiss the affliction so casually. Some of the nitwits they'd run into had even screamed at seeing the man behind the mask. Hell, even the man's own mother hadn't been able to deal with it, abandoning the child at a church with nothing but a mask, blanket, and note imploring the priest to pray for the infant's devil-touched soul. And yet, here was this girl who'd known them less than a week and she shrugged it off like it was nothing worse than a bad haircut. Perhaps…

"Then, if you wouldn't mind, would you take Erik his mask?"


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**A/N:** I just want to thank everyone again who are following Alex and Erik's story and especially those who review or place on favorites. I changed the rating on this chapter but it is more for future ones than this one. I was just afraid I'd forget lol

xoxoxoxoxoxox

**Chapter 18**

**Oct. 19 – 11:00am**

_ "Then, if you wouldn't mind, would you take Erik his mask?"_

"Are you sure that'd be wise?" Alex took the mask gingerly. "I'm not exactly his favorite person right now, you know." Fascinated, she trailed her fingers along the edge of the latex and marveled at how natural it felt.

"Nonsense." Da'ud waved away her concern. "He's probably already regretting his outburst. When the music stops or changes, you'll know that he's exorcised all his demons and it's safe to brave the lion's den."

Studying every detail of the soft mask, Alex wondered what kind of life had he known that would have convinced him such an item was necessary. She wasn't blind; she'd seen how some of her classmates in both elementary and high school treated those who were different. One year in elementary school, a girl had transferred in who'd been burned when she was a toddler. Her arms and legs were covered with the scars from the burns and grafts and she'd received her fair share of taunting remarks. Her parents withdrew her within a few months and home schooled her. In junior high, she met a boy who'd been born with only one arm; the other tapered to a point below the elbow with a single finger-like digit. He was brilliant, handsome, charming, and was a star track runner. He was also teased and tormented by other kids, called "Stumpy" or some even going so far as to question how he accomplished certain sexual activities. Alex had summoned the courage to talk to him one day, nervous as he was by far the cutest boy in school, and they became good friends; they even dated for a while before realizing that wasn't where their affection lay. But none of that explained Erik's extreme sensitivity to the point he took such great care to ensure no one saw his face.

"Da'ud…" Alex looked up from the mask in her hands to find him watching her intently. "What do you know about Erik Devereaux?" The detective settled back on the sofa and pondered what, and how much, he could tell of his friend's past. Without knowing Erik's wishes on the matter, he decided on a shortened version for now. Perhaps she could ask the masked man to elaborate at a later date.

"I'm sure you'll understand that I can't tell you everything. Erik is a very private person and I respect his wishes. However, I can give you an abbreviated history that might explain why he is…the way he is.

"He was born in a small town in France approximately thirty-seven years ago. No one ever discovered the identities of his birth parents as he was abandoned at the altar of a small country church with nothing but his clothing and an unsigned note from the mother. No one would take in a child whose face was as disfigured as his and so he was raised by the priests. He was a prodigy; walking before his first year, playing piano before he was three, violin at five. He could speak four languages, play six instruments, draw with the skill of a master painter, and design buildings that took your breath away and all before he was of age to shave." Alex couldn't conceal her surprise or her admiration. She'd known he was highly intelligent and could create music that would charm the birds from trees and make angels weep but she could never have imagined he'd be so skilled in other areas as well.

"It sounds like a miracle, doesn't it?" Da'ud sighed and shook his head. "The priests were scared of him. With his skills, his eyes, his voice, and his face, they ignorantly believed he was an agent of Satan come to lure them away from God. They performed what they called exorcisms which were, in reality, methods of torture; utilizing methods going back to the times of the witch trials and the Inquisition. He'd have to kneel and recite various scriptures from the bible for days without food, drink, or rest; they would strap him down and whip him with a scourge to free the devil from his blood; they'd force him to fast and then bleed him to purify his blood. By the time he was nine, he'd already seen more horrors at the hands of those idiot priests than anyone should have to suffer in a lifetime. When winter arrived that year, he knew he couldn't take another day of torture from those who grew bored from being confined indoors through the cold months ahead. One night, there was a large dinner to celebrate the founding of the church. He used the distraction to slip into the chapel, steal all the money he could find in the collection box, and then flee to Paris."

Though the detective's voice had trailed off, Alex continued to gape at the man in horror. Never would she have thought that anyone, especially those committed to the church, could treat a child in such a way. And the mother…! What kind of woman would abandon her own baby simply because it wasn't born with a flawless face? No wonder he wore the mask and was so sensitive about it. For years, he'd been told he was a monster; it was inevitable that he would grow to believe it. She marveled at his being able to show her the kindness and care she'd received while in his home after knowing so much pain in his life. Erik was truly an amazing individual…and she owed him an apology.

The harsh music had slowly softened during the detective's story and Alex could feel the sadness and despair wrapped in the beautiful melody. Extending her thanks to Da'ud for giving her some insight to her host, she rose and readied herself to meet with Erik once more. Gingerly, she cradled the latex covering as if it were the greatest and most fragile of treasures and made her way to the Music Room.

**Oct. 19 – 11:30am**

Damn that woman! Erik pounded a harsh cacophony of sounds as he struggled to stay away from the maddening female in his Library. He was either going to kill her or screw her and, at this moment, he didn't care which one it would be. He knew the emotional turmoil of the past week was taking its toll on Alex but when he heard her suggest being the bait in a trap, he nearly came unglued. After all this time and she'd still not accepted how maliciously cruel these people could be. He knew there'd be no trade. The girl was dead and Alex would follow were she to place herself into their hands. A flash drive is easily duplicated; there was no securing that particular data. They could remove all who knew of it, though, along with any who might be of use in accomplishing that goal.

He could still see the hurt in her eyes when he told her that her friend was already another victim of her pursuers. He knew she didn't want to believe him but, deep down inside, she'd known the truth since reading the message. Her later suggestion, while having some merit, was totally unacceptable. The building didn't exist that could be secured to the degree it would need in order to keep Alex safe. They also didn't have the manpower, especially now that Da'ud was injured. So, no, there was no way he was delivering that naïve child to a sniper's crosshairs like some kind of gaily wrapped gift. And though he spoke harshly and without thinking, he knew she didn't have a death wish and was just frustrated. The look in her eyes, though…

The music changed with his thoughts, flowing from anger to sadness as he remembered the stricken look that had quickly faded to rightful fury. Ah yes, Alexandra was a fiery little hellcat and packed more force behind that slap than he'd expected from such a slim girl. At a pause in the music, he raised his hand to touch his reddened cheek and only then noticed the absence of his mask. He had risen from the piano bench with a string of curses falling from his lips when a soft knock sounded and the door began to open. Erik froze momentarily, hoping it was the detective bringing his mask, but then he heard her voice call his name. Before she could locate him in the room, he slipped into a shadowy corner, his face concealed from her pale green gaze.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 19**

**Oct. 19 – 11:30am**

"Erik?" Alex hated how her voice shook but couldn't help but feel nervous about facing him. It was hard to know what would spark his ire and what wouldn't. She immediately looked towards the piano but found it quiet and its bench empty. Frowning, she closed the door behind her and stepped further into the room cautiously but still found no trace of her enigmatic host. "Mr. Devereaux?" Again she looked around the room with no hint of where he was hiding or if he was even still there at all. With a dejected sigh, she placed the mask on the piano's keys and turned to leave. Just as she'd grasped the handle she paused and, hoping he was there to hear her, quietly apologized for her earlier behaviour. Her heart jumped in her throat when a leather-clad hand lay over hers to prevent her from opening the door.

"I believe it is I who must apologize, _ma petite_," Erik murmured softly in her ear, inhaling the faint scent of lavender in her hair before catching her shoulders and holding her still when she would have turned to face him. He couldn't reaffix the mask without going to his room for the adhesive. "My words were unpardonable and your reaction, justified." Without conscious thought, his hands slid down her arms and pulled her slightly closer to his body.

Repressing a small shudder of pure desire, Alex closed the small gap between them until her back was flush with the hard muscles of Erik's chest. The fire that ignited and ran across her skin linked every place their bodies touched. It burned so hot and felt so right, she was scared of the intensity even while savouring it. Her eyes were drifting closed when she felt his hands drop as he abruptly stepped away, taking the warmth with him. Confused, Alex turned around only to find that he'd moved across the room and was looking out the window.

"Erik?"

"Thank you for returning the mask, Alexandra." His voice was cool and impersonal, dismissive. "If you would close the door behind you, I have some calls to make before I can join Da'ud and yourself for dinner."

Golden eyes gazed unseeing across the rolling hills of the Estate while his ears listened for the sound of the door closing. He had to step away, put distance between him and his lovely guest, before he lost the tenuous hold on his self-control. Clenching his hands into fists, he could still feel the softness of her skin through the supple leather of his gloves and the way her body fit perfectly against his. The faint scent of lavender clung to his clothing, filling his senses, and encouraging his imagination to run wild. What was it about her that drew him to her so helplessly? He'd had lovers in the past, many since…_her_ but none have wormed their way so insistently into his thoughts like this one aggravating female. So lost was he in thoughts of her that he hadn't heard her approach until her hand lightly touched his back.

"Is…something wrong?" Erik pressed his forehead against the cool glass. Poor child sounded so confused; there was no way she could know how she affected him. No way she could _ever_ know.

"Whyever should there be something wrong, Ms. Roberts?" He half turned from the window, keeping his marred cheek in shadow. He needed her out of the room before he did something foolish. "I believe I've covered all the niceties, have I not? I've apologized for my boorish behaviour, thanked you for the return of my mask, and even notified you of my intent to join you for dinner. Was there something I forgot?"

"Forgot?" Alex could feel the anger building at his casual dismissal. She wasn't quite certain which dismissal bothered her the most: her from the room, her earlier suggestion, or their near embrace at the door. The fact that he seemed totally unaffected when her heart was still pounding added to the frustration that fueled her ire. "What you have forgotten, Mr. Devereaux, is that not everyone is a heartless automaton like yourself. That wasn't your brother lying dead on the floor; it's not your friend whose life is at risk, or already taken. It's mine and I'll be damned if I let you dismiss me from the room like a naughty child!" By this time, Alex had moved to stand directly in front of him, craning her head to glare up at him.

"I want to know what these arrangements are that you so generously made on my behalf. I want to know just who is looking into what and why. And I want to know what the next god damned move is going to be because I'm sick of staying in this house twiddling my damned thumbs while you and Da'ud go off to play army."

"Are you quite finished with throwing a tantrum?" Erik spat through gritted teeth. He wasn't about to let this girl lecture him on his job. A job he knew very well how to do whereas she knew nothing. Ungrateful child. "You are left behind because you would be a liability. I can't speak for Da'ud but I don't particularly want to get killed because you want to play at being James Bond. You aren't told everything so that when you do something stupid, like you did at the Post Office, you can't betray Da'ud or me as well as our contacts who are aiding us and you by default. And I will stop treating you like a child when you stop acting like one!" His golden eyes glowed with molten fire as he turned to fully face her. Good God but she was infuriating!

"Child?" Alex stepped forward until they were nearly touching, heedless of the warning in the stance and glare of her host. "_I'm_ acting like a child? Bullshit! How can you say I'm the one acting like a child when you run in here to pout because someone dared to challenge the all-powerful Erik Devereaux? My God, get over yourself! You bully everyone with your scowling and yelling until you get your way but then run off to sulk when you don't. I don't know how Da'ud puts up wi…"

Alex had turned to leave in disgust when she felt his hand close like a vise around her arm. Spinning her around to face him once more, she saw the utter fury in his eyes before he pulled her tightly against his hard body. His other hand gripped her hair painfully to hold her still while he plundered her mouth in a savage kiss. The kiss was a show of anger, dominance, and superiority; he wanted to hurt her, perhaps even scare her, but then…then he felt her body melt into his. The hands that had been pushing against his chest were slowly sliding around his neck. When she gave a small whimper and tentatively touched his lips with the tip of her tongue, he was lost. Erik ran his hands along her back, up to tangle in her hair, then down to the gentle swell of her rear, memorizing every curve as he gloried in her passionate response. When he raised his lips, he was rewarded with a moan of disappointment until he laid a fiery path of kisses down her neck.

Unaware that he had steadily walked them away from the window, he nevertheless took advantage when Alex's legs struck the chaise and buckled. Erik half-fell on top of her, his lips never ceasing their assault as his hands eagerly sought the hem of her shirt. He lowered his head as he bared more and more of her lovely skin and placed heated kisses along the tops of her breasts. When Alex gripped his head and tugged him lower, arching her body in a desperate plea for _more_, Erik could do nothing but oblige. Pulling the lacy cup to one side, he licked and nibbled her nipple before taking the hard peak into his mouth. Her cry of pleasure urged him on and he nipped and nuzzled his way to her other waiting nipple.

Erik's shirt was unbuttoned and discarded on the floor; he could feel her nails scratching a passionate trail down his back, pausing only long enough for him to pull her shirt over her head. She felt so good beneath him that, for the moment, nothing else mattered. She was warm, she was willing, and he desperately wanted to bury himself in her warm body and take her until she begged him to never stop. With one hand holding her head so he could taste the sweetness of her lips, his other made swift work of the button and zipper of her jeans. Both groaned when he slipped beneath her underwear to dip a finger into her wet core. His fingers had already begun to play passion's melody when the shrill ringing of his cell phone shattered the silence.

**A/N:** Don't you just love telephones? :D


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 20**

**Oct. ****19 – 1:30pm**

As the cell continued its jarring ring, Alex gazed up at Erik in muted shock. _What the hell was she doing?_ Scrambling off the chaise, she fastened up her jeans and grabbed her shirt with shaking hands. She wondered if it was truly possible to die of embarrassment and, for a moment, hoped it was. All she knew was it'd be a long time before she'd be able to be in this room without thinking of what had almost happened. While she straightened her clothing, she could hear Erik answer his phone and cursed him silently for sounding so calm. She was about to leave the room when she paused to steal a glance at the man who'd made her blood sing. What she saw nearly made her return to his side. He was sitting with a tortured look on his face, tears forming in those gorgeous amber eyes, and then she heard his broken whisper: _Christine_. Leaving part of her heart behind, she eased the door closed behind her.

Alex could hear Da'ud call her name from the Library, could hear the concern in his voice, but she couldn't face him. Not now. Maybe not ever. Oh God, what had she been thinking? She bolted into her room and locked the door behind her, leaning against the carved wood. Thinking? No, she hadn't been thinking only feeling. Stumbling to the bed, she fell across it and buried her head in the pillow with a groan. Her fingers twitched at the memory of his body's marvelous contradictions: smooth skin and hard muscles, soft ebony hair and rough jagged scars, unyielding strength and unparalleled tenderness. Her entire body still burned from his skillful caresses and she gripped the pillow tighter to keep from going back to him and begging him to finish what they'd started. But more worrisome than her physical need for him was the tormented ache in her heart.

**Oct. ****19 – 3:00pm**

A nap, cold shower, and stern lecture later, Alex emerged from her room determined to act calmly and rationally. However, even though the Library was silent, she lost her nerve and made for the kitchen instead. Slicing up some fruit with perhaps more vigor than was healthy, she berated herself for her cowardice. She was blowing things out of proportion. They were both adults; there's was no reason to feel like a teenager making out in the back seat who'd been caught by her dad. She should be able to just walk in, smile politely, and go on like nothing had happened. Which was true. Dammit. _'Stop it,'_ she scolded herself harshly. _'Don't think like that because it'll only lead to further heartache.'_ Squaring her shoulders, she tried to not feel like a condemned man going to the gallows as she entered the Library.

Da'ud was napping on the sofa when she entered so she moved to the desk as silently as possible. She looked hard in every shadowy corner expecting Erik to materialize like a ghost but after several moments realized she and the detective were alone. Alex fired up the laptop while nibbling on some of her fruit. Perhaps she could get a bit more background on her host from his computer. _'Or his friend.'_ Searching through Erik's laptop proved frustratingly futile; she had more personal information on her library card than he had stored on his computer. If there was anything else, she wasn't skilled enough to find it. Her next place of inquiry would be the internet; while she didn't expect to find his life's history with a Google search, she did at least hope to discover _something_.

When the search pulled up several websites and articles mentioning Erik's name, Alex nearly fell from her chair in surprise. She eagerly clicked to view the first entry to find a critical review of his last opera. His work was praised heavily though there was little to no mention of Erik the Man and not Erik the Composer. Maybe these were too new? Clicking to the last page, she chose the last entry from just over five years ago and found it to be another critical review, this one of the first public performance of his work. Like the newer ones, the review of the opera was favorable but unlike the others, this one was accompanied by a photograph. She couldn't believe the date of the picture was accurate for Erik looked much younger. On his arm was one of the most beautiful women Alex had ever seen: petite, curvy, with long curly hair and a dazzling smile. Erik was smiling as well as he gazed at the lady beside him, his love evident in his eyes, body language, everything. Reading the caption, she felt her heart stop: Erik Devereaux and Christine Daae.

Da'ud stirred and winced at the shooting pain in his leg. Damn him and his clumsiness. How was he going to explain this to the Captain? The muted tapping on the keyboard drew his attention to the desk and he wondered yet again what was going on between Alexandra and his friend. He wasn't blind; he'd seen the sparks that always flared to life when the two were together. Erik was far too fond of using his temper and towering height to intimidate any who would stand in his way and it amused the detective to no end at how little it all affected this slip of a girl. But lately the sparks had seemed to change; no less passionate but not quite as hostile as before. He hoped Alex wasn't growing emotionally attached to Erik for down that path lay only heartache. He still mourned the love he had with Christine.

"Is everything ok, Alex?" He'd been watching her at the computer and grew concerned when she suddenly grew pale. She jumped slightly at his voice and looked up in surprise.

"I didn't know you were awake, Da'ud. I hope I didn't disturb you?" With a few clicks, Alex shut down the laptop and closed it before moving to the chair closest to the sofa. "Can I get you anything? A drink? Lunch?"

"Not right now, thanks." He allowed her to avoid his question, deciding now might not be the best time to push things. "Have you seen Erik, though? He called a doctor to examine my blasted leg but I've heard nothing else from him on the subject." When she blushed a fiery shade of red and shook her head, he found himself intrigued. What exactly had happened in the Music Room? He watched as she stood and paced nervously, straightening this book or fluffing that pillow, and waited for the questions he could plainly see on her face. He couldn't have been more surprised at the one she finally summoned the nerve to ask.

"Da'ud, you've known Erik for several years, right?" At his nod, she returned to the chair and stared down at her clasped hands. Her voice was little more than a whisper when she finally spoke. "Who's Christine?"

The silence stretched between them as the detective sat in muted shock. There wasn't a question she could have asked him that would have shocked him more. He didn't even know she was aware of Christine's existence. While he struggled as to how to answer, she managed to shock him a second time.

"I…I only ask because... well, earlier while we, Erik and I, were in the Music Room…" Alex could feel her cheeks burn and kept her gaze on her hands. "Th...there was a phone call…on his cell. When he answered, he said the name Christine like it…like it hurt him to do so."

"_She_ called?" Amazement filled Da'ud's voice along with something else, something Alex couldn't place until she looked into his eyes: blind fury. "Christine? Called Erik? For the love of Allah!"

"What is it?" Alex was shocked. What had this Christine done to cause such hatred in the detective and such pain in her host? "Who is she?"

She turned with a gasp at the voice which answered, a voice that was too beautiful and smooth to belong to the man on the sofa, and met with amber eyes so full of pain it made her own heart ache to see.

"Her name is Christine Daae and she was the woman I loved, the woman I wished to be my bride, and the woman who betrayed and tried to kill me five years ago."

**A/N:** Thank you once again to all who've reviewed :) I've actually been bouncing around the idea for a second one but want to flesh it out and get a decent outline ready before posting anything so stay tuned! :)


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**A/N:** I've given Erik a different background than Kay since I still haven't acquired the book. Also, I needed something that worked a bit better in a modern setting. This is also a quick update but I've laid out the rough drafts through ch 28 so thought I could afford to post again so soon :D

**Chapter 21**

**Oct. 19 – 3:30pm**

_ "Her name is Christine Daae and she was the woman I loved, the woman I wished to be my bride, and the woman who betrayed and tried to kill me five years ago."_

Not knowing what to expect, Alex still wasn't prepared for what she'd heard. It did make sense, though. She had always suspected there was someone in Erik's past who'd broken his heart but never would she have guessed how violently it had been done. No wonder he kept his emotions under such tight control. Though she sympathized greatly with her host, having known her own heartbreak and betrayal from one she thought loved her, she was amazed at the sheer anger she felt for this unknown woman. He may be moody and temperamental but he was also kind, gentle, talented, and with a wicked sense of humor that rivaled and even surpassed her own.

She watched as Erik moved to the sideboard to pour a glass of brandy and drain it before pouring another. For perhaps the first time since she'd known him, he appeared to be at a loss as to what to say. Alex glanced at Da'ud, wondering if she should ask him to explain further, but he gave a surreptitious shake of his head. Biting her lip, she returned her gaze to her host and struggled to stay calm and patient.

Erik moved to the window, knowing he should say something but uncertain as to how much he was willing, or could bear, to say. He didn't want to relive the pain of Christine's betrayal or his foolish belief that anyone could ever love him with his horror of a face. But perhaps, if he spoke of what his life had been before her, he might be able to numb the pain. Without turning, he began his tale in Paris…

_ It was cold and snowing the night he ran away from the priests. Though he knew stealing to be a crime against the laws of both man and God, he didn't see that either should matter to a monster. He'd taken all the money he could find, the head priest's thickest winter coat, and a small sack of dried meats and fruits. Once he reached Paris, he knew things would be better. It was so large that he could easily get lost and not have to worry about more attempts to purge the demons from him. Erik stayed in the shadows on his journey to the city hoping to avoid other travelers, sleeping during the day and traveling at night. He knew the priests would alert the authorities about his sin against the Church and his face was far too distinctive._

_ There were several times he ran into others along the way; some he managed to avoid while others didn't turn out so well. He was only nine years old and a day's walk from Paris when he killed his first man. Though it was self defense, it solidified in the young boy's tortured mind that he was the demon the priests always claimed him to be. It was the push that kept him to the shadows of the city, earning his way through petty theft and intimidation. He remained in the shadows and darkness until he was twelve and met his first glimmer of light, his first angel. _

_ Erik had been following the young woman for several blocks. She was carrying a small package with such care and protectiveness that it had to be valuable. Why else would she clutch it so tightly to her breast? He could tell she was lost and subtly coaxed her further into the deserted alleys by throwing his voice into the darkened corners and alleys he wanted her to avoid. Once she turned down the dead-end street he'd chosen for his strike, she was surrounded by three of the local toughs looking for an easy mark. Though he was angered by their interruption, he wasn't in the mood for a fight until one of them struck the lady and knocked her to the ground. The bundle he'd been anxious to steal was revealed to be a small infant by its startled wail. _

_ He was already in motion before the largest of the men pulled a knife and threatened to kill the child if the woman didn't shut it up. Upon hearing that, anger blossomed into red-hot fury and he made swift work of the other two before advancing on the third. Shocked to see his men lying bleeding and dying upon the ground at the hands of boy, the large thug rushed at him. Erik neatly side-stepped the man's clumsy attack and brought up the small dagger he'd hidden along the length of his arm. The man's scream of pain and rage only brought a satisfied gleam into the boy's unusual golden eyes. As they circled one another looking for an advantage, Erik's attention was pulled to the young woman as she struggled to rise and the thug took advantage of the distraction. Using his size against his much smaller foe, he pushed the boy against the side of a brick building and delivered a hard left to his chin._

_ "What __**are**__ you?" The thug recoiled in disgust when the mask flew from the boy's face._

_ "Your worst nightmare," Erik's low reply was nearly lost in the screams when he plunged his knife deep into the man's belly. Tripping him, he placed his knee on the man's throat to hold him in place while he twisted and turned the knife in his hand. Releasing him only when his screams fell silent, he then turned to the woman whose life and virtue he'd just saved. Grasping the knife tightly in his hand, he advanced on the trembling woman. There could be no witnesses after all._

_ "Come with me, I know where you can hide." Erik stumbled back in shock when the lady held out her hand. Her face showed no disgust for his face and her fear was fading the longer they stood staring at one another. Impatiently, she reached forward to grab his hand, "The gendarme will be here soon, monsieur, we have to go!" Though Erik avoided her hand, he did retrieve his mask and motion for her to follow him as he led her out of the dangerous alleyways. By the time they reached a well-lit busy street, he'd cleaned his hands of most of the blood and replaced his mask. When the woman stepped onto the sidewalk, he stayed behind in the shadows prepared to disappear completely. Much to his surprise, the lady finally managed to grab his hand and pull him along with an exasperated sigh. "You were going the wrong way, monsieur."_

_ When they reached her home, she nearly pushed the boy inside before following him to close and lock the door. She guided him to a small den containing a desk, chair, lamp, and sofa where they were joined by a slim athletic man. She quickly relayed the story of what had happened and the man Erik could only assume to be the lady's husband turned to fix the boy with a penetrating stare. After several long, tense moments the man gave a single nod as if satisfied with what he saw and held out his hand._

_ "My name is François Giry, monsieur, and I thank you for the rescue of my wife, Angelique, and daughter, Meghan." Suspicious of the treatment by these strangers, the boy relied on manners that had been beaten into him at a young age. He accepted the hand with a curt nod._

_ "I am Erik."_

Alex could only listen in amazed horror at the story of this man's childhood. At nine, she was playing with dollhouses and the worst thing that had happened was her pet goldfish had died. At twelve, she was secretly still playing with Barbie and boys were only just becoming something more than mere pests. Death hadn't truly touched her until she was fifteen and her maternal grandmother had died at the age of ninety-five. Once more she wondered how someone with Erik's background could still be sane much less sympathetic to another's plight. She wrenched her gaze from Erik's stiff back to look over at Da'ud. None of this appeared to be a shock to the older man though he clearly was pained by the tale.

_The boy stayed the night with the Giry's having every intention of leaving in the early morning with their best silver. When the light of the morning sun fell across his masked face, however, he awakened to find François at the desk watching him. Immediately he checked for his mask before sitting up to look around the room expecting the gendarme to take him away at any moment. François remained silent, waiting for the boy to look at him once more._

_They talked for several hours before Angelique rose and Erik told the man the little he knew of how he came to be at the Church and then, later, Paris. François listened in silence, interrupting only to ask for clarification of certain facts. They moved on to other subjects and the man was pleased to discover that the boy was intelligent, driven, and talented but poorly educated. They struck a deal where Erik would remain with the Giry's for a period of six months. During that time, he would be tutored in basic education at an accelerated rate in order to catch up to his peers. In return, Erik would refrain from theft, blackmail, extortion, murder and any other unsavory acts he'd resorted to during his time in Paris as well as act as escort and guard to the man's young wife and child when needed. If, at the end of the six months, all were in agreement, the Giry's would become the boy's legal guardians and arrange papers for him such as a birth certificate, passport, etc. Erik was still suspicious of a deal that seemed so incredibly one-sided but figured if things went wrong he could simply disappear once more so he agreed. Four years later, Angelique, Erik, and Meghan returned to her family in the US in mourning. François had been killed by a terrorist's bomb planted on the subway he took to work every morning. _

_They never returned to France after that. It was simply too painful. Erik completed school and began the many surgeries that he hoped would make him look normal. After the fifth one, the doctors advised him against more due to the massive amounts of scar tissue already built up. Disappointed and angry, he sought acceptance and structure, something to live for. He joined the Marine Corps. Within two years, he was recognized as their best in hand to hand combat, stealth, and marksmanship and was placed in the prestigious Force Recon unit. Once his tour was nearing its end, he was actively recruited to be a federal agent. He mostly worked alone, having little patience for training new recruits, yet after five years he was given the trainee that would change his life. Her name was Christine Daae._

_Their first three years together were a strictly professional teacher-student relationship. At some point, however, things began to change. Erik noticed that his partner was actually a beautiful woman who seemed to genuinely like him even after seeing behind his mask. They were working undercover when things changed forever. Posing as a married couple, the pair fell into the role with enthusiasm. By the end of the week, they'd had their first kiss. By the end of the month, they were sharing each other's bed. By the end of the mission, they were living together. It all fell apart that night at the opera, things were strained for weeks. Both were skilled at concealing their emotions, they had to be, but using that training against each other slowly tore them apart. The mission into Iraq was to be Erik's last; he'd already put in his paperwork to resign after selling his first musical score. Angelique missed him dearly and Meghan had grown to the point he no longer recognized her. He wanted to return to his family to heal his bruised heart and give Christine a chance to decide what she wanted to do. He discovered her answer at the end of a gun barrel in an abandoned warehouse. He hadn't seen her since._

Alexandra was openly weeping by this point and truly hating the woman who abused Erik's trust and heart so badly. She couldn't imagine rejecting the heart of such an amazing man but knew now that the fragile hopes she refused to acknowledge, even to herself, would never come to pass. He was still grieving for his lost love and, though she had betrayed him in the worst possible way, he loved her still.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 22**

**Oct. 19 – 4:45pm**

As the sun slowly surrendered to night's embrace, Erik completed his tale and silence fell upon the Library. Though he could hear Alex's soft weeping and Da'ud's attempts at comfort, he remained strangely detached from it all. His mind was locked in memories of the petite brunette and all the "firsts" they'd shared: the lesson in hand-to-hand combat that ended with making love in the practice room, attending the Carnevale di Venezia where he sang to her while poling a gondola down the canal, returning from their first mission and holding her through her nightmares. Slowly, he saw the things he refused to see at the time. During the last few months, Christine had been distant, irritable, and secretive and he had made excuses for her every time. He'd told himself that she was tired, under a lot of stress, and needed space since he knew he was obsessive with his music and possessive with her. But ever since the Opera and his failed proposal opportunity, he'd known she was no longer his. What has torn him up inside for the past five years, however, was the thought that perhaps she never was.

He had spent so many years trying to forget her and now that he'd found someone he was beginning to care for, she'd returned. His heart had nearly leaped from his chest when he'd heard her voice again; it was like the past five years had never happened. He'd drank in the sound of her, barely paying attention to her words, but always there had been something nagging at him. Christine had said everything he'd ever wanted to hear, that she wanted to come back to him, that she was being held against her will and had been forced to turn on him. And yet…he couldn't dismiss the timing of her call. After all this time, why now? It was too much of a coincidence and he didn't believe in coincidences. Knowing the others were waiting and that it was never going to get any easier, Erik drew in a steadying breath and finally turned away from the window. They needed to discuss the telephone call.

"It's been five years since I've spoken to Christine," he poured himself a glass and then brought the brandy decanter to the desk. He had almost emptied the glass before taking a seat. "I've thought of her every single day since then and yet now that she's actually called and wants to meet, I'm reluctant to do so. I have to wonder; why now?"

"What did she say, old friend?" The detective's voice was quiet and pained. He hated seeing Christine hurt Erik again; she'd done a good enough job the first time.

"That she's been a prisoner this whole time and this was her first chance to call. That she never wanted to betray me or the Agency but was forced to do so. That…that she still l…loved me and wanted to come back." His voice shook slightly and he reached for the decanter and refilled his glass.

"Do you believe her?" Again, Da'ud was the one who spoke up; Alex remained silent as she wasn't sure her input would be listened to or taken seriously. She was also still reeling from his tale and trying to keep from throwing her arms around him to comfort him.

"I want to, _Daroga_. God knows I want to!" Erik ran his hand through his hair mussing the usually groomed ebony locks. "But I can't help but be suspicious of the timing. All these years and this was the first time she'd been free enough to call, just as we're investigating a case that points directly at her? I can't overlook that no matter how much I want to."

"Have you thought of what you are going to do?" Da'ud continued to gently extract the needed information before his masked friend sought to relieve his pain through his music. "I won't be mobile for some time so can't provide back up for you. I don't like to think of you walking into a possible trap."

"I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do." That was only half-true. He was going to see Christine, he had to or go mad, but he couldn't determine his actions after he'd done so.

"What? Erik, you can't seriously be thinking of meeting her alone?" The quiet concern in the detective's voice quickly dissolved into incredulity.

"I said I have not yet decided, _Daroga_," Erik snapped. He would not be interrogated over this, not when he was still in such turmoil.

"I know you, Erik, and I know what she meant to you, but …"

"**Enough!**" The beauty of his voice could not be dimmed even as he bellowed the command. Golden eyes aglow with anger, he stalked over to the detective to loom over him. "This conversation is over."

"Fine, fine, but I don't want to have to pull another bullet from your chest, Erik. You might not be so lucky this time if her aim has improved." Da'ud knew he was pushing his luck as he stared into the furious eyes of his friend. After several long, tense moments, Erik gave a single nod and returned to his chair.

"I would never dream of asking that of you again. Also, Doc Matthews will be here in a couple of hours to examine that leg and bring you some crutches." The change of subject declared the discussion about Christine to be over and Erik turned his gaze to the uncharacteristically quiet Alex. "While he's here, I'm going back to town to check Ms. Butler's house and the warehouse. We cannot know how she fares without seeing for ourselves, as has been pointed out to me. In this instance, I hope to be proven wrong." Alex's blush and murmured thanks were all the proof he needed to know he was doing the right thing. Perhaps he'll learn something about the murderers as well.

**Oct. 19 – 6:15pm**

It had been an hour since Erik had left the Estate. Da'ud had insisted upon him wearing the radio ear piece since he was going alone and to keep the mic open as often as possible. While the masked man was changing into his stealth garb, Alex had written out the address and directions to Lizzie's house and left it with the detective. Muttering some excuse, she had retreated to her room before he returned to the Library. She wasn't certain she could restrain herself after the incident in the Music Room if she saw him in that body hugging suit again. Once he'd left, she emerged to fix her and the detective a light dinner and took it to the Library so he wouldn't have to try to walk.

As they ate, they kept the conversation to general subjects and avoided the ones they most wanted to speak of: Erik, Christine, and what happened in the Music Room earlier. After dinner was cleared away, however, talk inevitably turned to the events of the day. They began with the most neutral subject: Christine. Though it hurt her to hear how very much Erik loved and was hurt by the beautiful woman, she had to admit that it helped her understand him a bit better. Alex began by telling the detective all she'd found during her online search and he helped her separate true fact from the fabricated fiction of sensationalist journalism. He followed with what little he knew of her directly, how dedicated Erik was to the point of obsession, and the information he'd gleaned after her betrayal. Several agents had been assigned to find and bring her back to stand trial but were never successful; they either failed to find her or never returned at all. Erik's resignation was already in effect by the time he had fully healed so he was unable to go through official channels to find his missing partner. Instead, he poured his money into private agencies as well as utilized contacts he'd gathered during his time as an agent to search for clues. No amount of Agency resources or Erik's money had been enough to find Christine after she'd gone into hiding.

By the time they were finished, Alex was bordering on despair. She wasn't quite ready to call what she felt for the masked man "love" but it had become clear that whatever it was, it was not to be. The devotion he'd shown to his former partner and lover even after her betrayal only cemented that fact. Perhaps her last boyfriend had been correct; she wasn't enough to make a man stay faithful much less pull his affections from the woman he loved beyond reason. Now more than ever she needed this whole ordeal to be over so she could return to where she belonged and try to forget her foolish feelings. The detective had just begun to question her about what had happened between her and Erik when the front gate's monitor buzzed. Relieved, Alex helped him to his feet and over to see who was requesting admittance. Da'ud knew Erik's security procedures well and verified the doctor's identity before buzzing him in. After returning him to the comfort of the Library sofa, Alex moved to the front door to lead him to his patient.

Dr. Matthews recognized the detective from his days at the Agency and they talked for a brief moment before he introduced his intern, a rookie recruit named Raoul de Chagny. He was somewhere in his mid-thirties, she thought, tall but not as tall as Erik and carried a certain air about him that made her faintly uncomfortable. Still, Alex was struck by how incredibly _pretty_ he was with his sky-blue eyes, fashionably tousled blond hair, and perfectly trimmed moustache and goatee. He looked like he'd just stepped out of a photo shoot for GQ; he also had the air of one who knew it. Where Erik was all masculine hard angles, Raoul was so flawless as to be almost feminine. The intern looked around the room before allowing his gaze to fall on Alex. Totally ignoring the doctor and his patient, Raoul pulled over a chair to charm the lovely creature with the cropped red hair and pale green eyes.

**A/N:** Ah, Raoul. Think of him as a baby-faced pretty boy along the lines of a young Leonardo diCaprio or someone equally nauseating. :D Thanks to all who read and review, things will be picking up shortly and a lot will be happening. Stay tuned!


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 23**

**Oct. 20 – 7:00am**

The soft chirp of her cell phone pulled Alex from a restless sleep and she barely resisted tossing it across the room. The only ones who would be sending her a text were either the ones who killed her brother or the flirt from last night. At this point, she really couldn't decide which would be worse. The intern, Raoul, had asked for her number so many times last night that she'd given it to him to simply shut him up about it. By the time the doctor finished with Da'ud's leg and declared it time to go, she was fighting a raging headache and her ears were ringing from Raoul's constant babbling about nothing and everything. Other than loving the sound of his own voice, though, he seemed nice enough; at one time she would have been thrilled at his interest in her. He was reasonably attractive and easy to talk to (or listen to, really) with a good paying job…but for all that, there was something about him that made her slightly uneasy. She couldn't place it but decided to trust her instincts on this one. If he was involved with the murder of her brother, his obvious false attraction to her could come in handy. Personally, Alex couldn't help but compare him to a certain taciturn, amber-eyed composer. Unfortunately for Raoul, he fell short in that comparison in every way. With a sigh, she rolled off the bed and headed for the shower, ignoring the little flashing light on her phone. She just hoped he didn't text as much as he talked or she _would_ throw it across the room.

Nearly an hour later, she emerged from the room with just a faint throbbing in her head that only coffee could fix. The house was silent which surprised her; usually both Erik and Da'ud were awake long before her. As the coffee brewed, she gazed out the window at the sunshine and suddenly felt suffocated by the walls surrounding her. Needing to be feel the sun on her face, Alex slipped on her jacket and out the front door. She only hoped she made it back inside the house before either of the men awoke. Shivering slightly in the early morning chill, she sipped her coffee as she wandered aimlessly around the house. She wasn't so sure she wanted to see Erik this morning; the longer she could avoid him, the longer she could cling to the hope that Lizzie was alright and what had occurred in the Music Room was simply a vivid fantasy. Finding a small patio at the rear of the house, she settled into a chair and watched the play of the sunlight through the leaves of the trees at the edge of the Estate.

When her cell chirped again, she sighed in annoyance and pulled it from her jacket to see if it was Raoul. '_Seven new messages? Stalker, much?' _Alex chuckled softly and began to scroll through seven variations of the same message. Sunlight reflected off the screen and, in shifting it in order to see, her slightly numb fingers lost their grip on and she dropped it onto the stone patio floor. Letting loose a rather excessive amount of expletives, she leaned over to grab her phone just as the window behind her exploded in a spray of glass. Screaming, Alex dropped the phone to crouch on the floor, covering her head with her arms. Momentarily frozen, she looked around for somewhere to hide from the unseen gunman. Spotting a wooden bench at the edge of the patio, Alex scrambled to reach it before a second shot found her. She flipped it over with a loud crash and huddled behind it, praying it was thick enough to protect her. When a second shot struck the bench, penetrating it to graze a painful, bloody trail across her arm, she knew she had to find a better place to hide. Seeing nothing but open meadow and a garage far too far away, she berated her foolishness. '_Stupid, stupid, stupid! You knew better than to go outside!_'

**Oct. 20 – 8:30am**

Erik had just entered the kitchen when the first shot shattered a window in the laundry room and was followed by a terrified scream. Running to the Library to retrieve the weapon he kept there, his first thought was of Alexandra's safety. Surely she wasn't foolish enough to have gone outside? Staying low, he ran to the laundry room and risked a glance through the broken window just as the second shot broke was fired. Seeing Alex huddled behind a wooden bench, bleeding and scared, stole his breath for a moment before his fear and worry were replaced by unbridled fury. If she survived this bit of self-destructive idiocy, he was tempted to kill her himself.

Using the amount of time between rounds as a guide, Erik knew that the time to get her out of there was now while the sniper was reloading his weapon. The third time isn't always a charm, sometimes it's fatal. Running to the garage, he easily found the door in the dark and hoped it was close enough for Alex to make it inside. Easing the door open, he saw more than thirty feet of open grass between him and the figure huddled behind the bench. Definitely not ideal. A cry of pain from a third shot alerted him that he was running out of time and, making a quick decision, he turned quickly from the door.

Sobbing and near hysteria, Alex frantically sought anything she could use to protect herself from the sniper's bullets. He was getting closer and closer with every shot. The cut on her arm had been little more than a scratch but she was concerned about the amount of blood she was losing from the wound in her side. Blood had quickly covered most of the left side of her shirt and was beginning to soak into her jeans. Where it had been a fiery pain at first, it was now going numb and that worried her even more. She was starting to see black spots as her vision blurred when a sleek, black Z4 backed across the lawn at high speed to stop in front of her. Erik opened the passenger door and yelled for her to get in, grabbing her arm and pulling her in when dizziness made her stumble. Slamming the door closed, he put it in gear and was almost around the corner when the back window shattered. He never even slowed down, bringing the sports car to a screeching halt only after they were in the safety of the garage.

Bellowing for Da'ud to bring the medical supplies to Alex's room, Erik carried the barely conscious girl into her bedroom and laid her down. A quick look at the wound on her arm satisfied him that it was superficial and had almost stopped bleeding already. Lifting the bloodied hem of her shirt, he rolled her onto her right side and cursed under his breath. The bullet was still inside. Retrieving towels and a bowl of water, he had cleaned most of the blood by the time the detective hobbled into the room with the first aid bag slung across his shoulders. While Erik finished cleaning the wound, Da'ud prepared a low dose of morphine to help with the bullet extraction. Quickly working in tandem, they had Alex sedated, the bullet removed, stitches in place, and both injuries bandaged before tucking her into bed to sleep off the pain medication.

As soon as she was settled, Erik ordered the detective to stay with Alex as he sped upstairs to change. He had little hope of finding the sniper but needed to find the site to see if any clues were left behind. He left the house through the front door, working his way to the line of trees before angling towards the back of the house. Staying in the shadows, he moved as quietly as the ghost he was once called though he met with disappointment at the site used by the shooting. The sniper was obviously a professional; there were no cigarette butts or gum wrappers, he had retrieved his expended shell casings, and left few broken blades of grass to reveal his presence. Frustrated, Erik looked up into the trees, trying to discover how the sniper accessed his property without setting off the alarms. He would be having a talk with the head of his security team to stress the importance of doing their job efficiently.

Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he stalked over to the patio to retrieve Alex's coffee mug and cell phone. Erik was reading the many asinine messages left by someone named Raoul when the phone's cheerful chirp and flashing light alerted him to a new incoming text. He gave a low growl of anger at what he read.

**Bring the drive on Friday, you know the location. Next time you won't be so lucky.**

**A/N: **Things are shifting into high gear starting with this chapter so I hope you enjoy the ride. :)**  
**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. I know it's early for an update but I've been on a writing spree and have a good sized buffer between what's post-ready and what's still in editing. :D

**Chapter 24**

**Oct. 20 – 10:00am**

After his frustrating search of the tree line failed to reveal any clues, Erik changed into casual clothing with one of his loose fitting masks and returned to Alex's side. Looking down at her sleeping face, he frowned at the dark smudges below her eyes, evidence of restless nights. The past week had been hard on her, he knew. She'd lost her brother, her best friend, and her sense of safety and security. She was thrown into close association with a masked stranger who was more monster than man. She'd been shot at, threatened, blackmailed, and now lay injured in his guest room. He knew she had felt safe here and he was actually surprised she'd waited so long before attempting to walk the grounds. He had contemplated inviting Angelique and Meghan to keep her company but had considered it too dangerous. In light of recent events, his concerns had been justified.

He had asked Da'ud if he knew anyone named Raoul in Alex's past who might be sending her messages. He recounted the previous night's visit from the doctor and the young intern who seemed to have taken a likening to Erik's guest. Reading through the saccharinely sweet texts, he viewed them with suspicion. Like Christine's call, it seemed too much like a coincidence. He could well understand an attraction to her, God knows, he battled his own every day; however, the fact that this Raoul had arrived, was so persistent to get her number, and then send such an unusual number of text messages in so short a time seemed more than a bit odd. The boy had an agenda, of that he was certain.

Tossing the cell phone aside with a heavy sigh, he raised his mask enough to run a weary hand over his eyes. He'd gotten very little sleep in the past few days, less than normal, and it was starting to catch up to him. As he set the mask back in place, something nagged at him on the periphery of his memory, something concerning Alex and the mask. It struck him like a bolt of lightning; she'd seen him without the mask. Twice! As he concentrated on the events, he couldn't remember her reaction. Granted, they had both been furious at the time but he'd never known someone who failed to react at all to the sight of his hideous face. And then in the Music Room after she'd seen him unmasked yet again, she had returned his kisses with a passion that astonished as much as inflamed him. Was it possible that she truly didn't care about the twisted flesh that made up his mockery of a face? Erik snorted in disgust at his fantasy. They had both been angry at the time; he doubted she even remembered what she saw if, indeed, she saw anything at all. No one had ever been able to look upon his face except for Angelique and Meghan. He attributed it to having saved Angie's life and growing up around Meg who'd often tugged his mask off as a toddler. But they were the only ones. Christine had pleaded with him to keep the mask on even during their most intimate moments. Both his platoon-mates in the Marine Corps and fellow agents were decidedly more comfortable when he wore the mask than when he didn't. And, of course, one couldn't forget his mother. This unknown woman who'd nurtured him with her body for nine long months had taken one look at his face and abandoned him, believing him spawned from the very bowels of Hell. He looked at Alex with suspicion and hope at war within him. Still, if there was even a chance…

Shaking his head, he closed off that line of thinking; it could only bring heartache. He checked her bandage while she slept to prevent her from being uncomfortable and in pain. He was returning to his seat by the bed when he spied an artist's sketch book on her dresser. Curious, Erik flipped through a few pages. He picked up the book and settled into the chair to look through it with more care. A pencil sketch of her brother caught his eye and he was amazed at her talent. With a few lines and some shading, Alex had captured Samuel in the midst of some mischief. There was a slight upward turn to the boy's lips and a twinkle in his eye that betrayed how close he was to laughter. And she had accomplished all that with a simple charcoal pencil. What on earth was she doing with a pedantic Finance degree when she could draw with such perfection? He continued to look through the pages until he stared down into his own eyes. Once more, she'd rendered the portrait in pencil except for his eyes. She had colored them a molten shade of amber with a hint of fire reflected in them. The effect was startling and beautiful. As he took in the entire picture, however, Erik's heart pounded loudly in his ears. She had drawn him unmasked in vivid, horrific detail. A soft groan from the figure on the bed reluctantly drew his gaze away from her sketch pad.

"What happened?" Alex kept her eyes closed as her hoarse whisper cut through the silence of the room. The bright light was making her head throb.

"You were shot twice," Erik kept his voice low and soft; he'd lecture her later. "The one on your upper arm is a superficial grazing and will heal within a few days. The second shot was to your side and we had to remove the bullet. It will take longer to heal and you're lucky it didn't hit any vital organs." He could feel his temper rising as he remembered how long it took him to find and remove the bullet. Growling, he rose from the chair to pace around her small room. "What exactly were you doing outside? And alone? Were you trying to get killed? Dammit, Alexandra, had I not been downstairs at just the right moment we'd be wrapping you in that sheet instead of covering you with it! Haven't Da'ud and I both stressed the care you have to take until this situation is resolved? What were you thinking?" Erik was nearly shouting by the time he noticed that the usually spirited Alex had quietly rolled over onto her uninjured side, her short hair curling just enough to hide her face. He watched her body tremble as she cried silently and felt his anger drain away.

"Alexandra," gently he brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, wiping away her tears with the backs of his fingers. His tenderness was her undoing and she couldn't stop her sobs, weakly pushing against him when he lay on the bed and pulled her gently into his arms. "I'm here, _ma petite_, it's alright. You're safe now." He held her close and crooned soft words of comfort into her hair. Eventually, her tears gave way to an exhausted form of peace sprinkled with soft hiccups and sniffles.

"I'm sorry, Erik," she stated quietly once she'd regained control. "It's just been so much…too much. I've not long gotten past the deaths of my parents and now Sam…and Lizzie." Silent tears trekked down her cheeks to settle in her short auburn locks and she could feel his lips in her hair, soft as a butterfly's wing. She felt so safe, so secure, that she believed she could tell him anything.

"When my parents died, I accepted their ruling of an accident at first. I was only nineteen, still more child than adult, and Sam was already under investigation. When I started getting phone calls about a week after their funeral I just assumed it was because of Sam. No number showed up on Caller ID, no one ever said anything, so I didn't think much of it. I'm not even sure I said anything to the police who were gathering the evidence in the case. I didn't want to provide anything that would keep Sam away any longer than necessary. And then he was gone for two years, in jail, but the calls didn't stop." Alex shivered and Erik gently brushed the tears from her cheeks before gathering her close once more. He wondered if she'd ever told this to anyone before and was honored she'd chosen to tell him after his deplorable show of temper earlier.

"Sam came home much different than when he'd left. We were twins, you know, and had always been able to talk about anything. Now he was quiet, secretive. He kept to his room or at the café with his friends. The calls still came, maybe once or twice a month, but I'd convinced myself that they were just misdialed numbers. And then we got a small drive in the mail, like the one Sammy sent, with a single audio file on it. It was a recording of my father refusing to leave his company to work for a foreign controlled competitor. As the conversation began to escalate into an argument, my father left the room saying he had an important dinner engagement to attend with my mother. They were going to the restaurant where he proposed twenty-five years ago to celebrate their wedding anniversary. They never made it." As she spoke, Alex laced their fingers together where they rested across her stomach.

"Do you still have the drive, _petite_?" Erik murmured softly while turning his hand to hold hers, palm to palm. At her nod, he dropped another feather-light kiss on the top of her head. "We will retrieve it when you have recovered. It could prove useful."

"We?" She questioned quietly as she shifted to lay flat so she could look up at him. Before he realized her intentions, she slipped her right hand out of his and gently slid the mask from his face. She stopped him with gentle insistence when he tried to turn away from her and caressed the mangled, scarred flesh of his right cheek with the backs of her fingers. "You would let me go with you?" Her warm gaze never wavered as she ran her fingers lightly over each ridge and valley, memorizing its texture. Erik couldn't suppress the shudder that wracked his body at her gentle touch on his most hated feature.

"Yes, Alexandra," he raised his hand to cover hers, amazement lighting his golden eyes at the lack of disgust in her pale green ones. "I won't deny you your right to help us but I do ask that you trust Da'ud and I to know what affects your safety and ours." She nodded content she wouldn't be shut out of the plans that so intrinsically concerned her and, giving his distorted cheek a final caress, rested her hand against his chest as she snuggled close to him. She fought the pull of the medication, not wanting to lose the beautiful experience of lying in his arms.

"Now may I ask you a question, _ma petite_? I confess it is one that has puzzled me for some time." Erik's voice was still little more than a whisper as his arms unconsciously returned to her waist to hold her against him. His heart gave a slight lurch when she gently caressed his hands before lacing their fingers together once more. "Where did you learn to handle a weapon?" Alex chuckled softly at the confusion in his voice and, without thinking, brought one of his hands to her lips before answering.

"From the age of sixteen, I participated in handgun competitions throughout the state. As I grew older, I maintained proficiency in the 9mm and actually taught safety courses until my college courses took all my time. I'd not handled a Beretta in some time but it's like riding a bicycle; you never forget."

They both fell silent after that, content to simply enjoy the peace and companionship that can only be found in the arms of another. Alex listened to his strong heartbeat beneath her cheek and wished she could hold onto this moment forever. As moody, dangerous, and temperamental as he was, Erik attracted her more than any other man she'd ever known. She feared allowing her heart to become involved but equally feared it was too late. She was torn between running away from him and the feelings he evoked within her, feelings more powerful than any she'd ever felt before, or running towards him so he could fan into a raging inferno of pleasure the flames that his touch ignited. Lulled by the rhythmic beat of his heart and the strong medication that still ran through her veins, she gave a final sigh of happiness and drifted to sleep safe in Erik's embrace.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 25**

**Oct. 20 – 4:00pm**

The next time Alex stirred she noticed the throbbing pain in her side and the empty bed where Erik had lain. She wasn't sure which hurt more. Why did she have to fall for the most infuriating man she'd ever met? Staring at the ceiling, she went over every detail of the night before. His anger had been expected and he'd said nothing she hadn't already with her own self-recriminations. What she hadn't expected was how very much it had hurt to know he was angry with her. Things were fuzzy after that; she knew she'd been upset and he'd comforted her. She vaguely remembered telling him about Sam and her parents but the rest was a blur. Alex couldn't distinguish between reality and dreams due to the medication Erik had given her. All she knew for certain was that he'd held her, reassured her, and made her feel safe until she drifted off to sleep.

Now that she was awake, she felt a particular need and was determined not to be an invalid. As she eased from the bed to stand on wobbly legs, she hoped she could reach her destination and return without alerting a certain masked man of her intentions. Wincing at the pain, Alex supported herself with the wall and assorted scattered furniture as she slowly made her way to the bathroom. There were just some things you didn't call a man to help you do. She remained sitting to wash her hands while realizing that getting there wasn't the hardest part. There was also the problem of returning to the bed without falling to the floor. It had sapped much more of her energy than she would have expected to make the short walk. Gritting her teeth against the pain and dizziness, she pulled herself back to her feet and started the slow trek back across the room. She was almost halfway to the bed when a slight sound made her look up to see Erik filling the doorway.

"I cannot wait to hear the reason you are out of bed." The melodic purr of Erik's voice did little to hide his obvious displeasure to see her on her feet.

"I…I didn't want to call a-anyone," she gave a furtive glance towards the bathroom door hoping he would understand. "It's not very far…" As she reached for the back of the nearest chair, she swayed and he was there immediately to sweep her into his arms and carry her to the bed.

"Foolish child, have you forgotten that you've been shot? I would think a moment's embarrassment worth not reopening your wound." He placed her on the bed, supporting her back until he could arrange pillows to help her sit up comfortably. "I was checking to see if you were awake and wanted something for dinner. Since you are obviously well on your way to recovery, I suppose I shall let you fetch it yourself."

"Sarcasm ill suits you, Erik." Alex snapped, embarrassed he had caught her out of bed and angry at her own weakness. "Besides, I was doing perfectly fine on my own." She knew it sounded childish and blatantly untrue but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much pain she was now in.

"Of course." He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat with his arms crossed over his chest, golden eyes glowing from the shadowy depths of his black half mask. "I saw just how well you were doing when I walked in." He watched the blush spread across her face as she lowered her gaze to her clasped hands. "Before I bring in your dinner tray, I need two things," Erik waited for her to drag her eyes back to his before he continued. "One, I need to check your wound to ensure you haven't reopened it. Two, I want your solemn vow that you won't move an inch while I am gone. Is that clear?" At her nod, he rose to retrieve the necessary medical supplies from her dresser. He tended the injury swiftly and skillfully leaving Alex wondering just how often he'd had to do something of that nature. With a final admonishment to stay in bed or face the consequences, Erik left to get her dinner tray.

Glad he'd prepared the tray before entering the guest room, it didn't take him long to return. He wasn't too certain she'd remain where she was, promise or not. He couldn't suppress a sigh of relief to find her exactly where he'd left her. Erik settled the tray over her lap and claimed the chair by her bed once more.

"I hope you don't mind the company but there are a few things I need clarified concerning your little trip outside this morning."

"I just wanted some fresh air and sunshine, that's all." Alex could feel the heat in her cheeks. "I know it wasn't the most brilliant idea I've ever had, you don't need to remind me. I had planned to go no further than the doorway."

"Very well, I suppose I can understand that. And really, I'm surprised it took you so long; however, that doesn't mean we need a repeat."

"Yes, Papa," Alex muttered under her breath sarcastically, chafing at his dictatorial attitude.

"Don't be childish," Erik's murmur brought the heat back to her face as she realized how good his hearing was. "Who is _Raoul_?" He spat the name like it had given him a bad taste in his mouth.

"Who?" Frowning, she struggle to remember the name until her cell phone was placed on the dinner tray. "Oh, yes. Him. He came with the doctor who looked at Da'ud's leg. I hope he's not in training or anything since he spent the entire time trying to make me believe he was bowled over by my stunning beauty." Alex couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice as she thought of the pushy intern.

"And you didn't?" Erik's golden eyes never wavered from her face. "Believe him, that is."

"God, no! I doubt a feather would be bowled over by my so-called 'beauty.'" She gave a sound that fell somewhere between a snort of disgust and a disbelieving laugh. "Besides, he was too pushy, too overflowing with complements, and too self-centered. Geez, I started to ask him if he had opinions on any subject besides himself."

"Do not denigrate yourself, you're lovely." To say he was surprised at her opinion of her looks was an understatement. He found her positively entrancing when she wasn't irritating him to the point of madness. "So why give him your phone number?"

"Primarily to shut him up about it but also because I didn't trust him. There was something about him…" Alex chewed on her bottom lip and frowned, trying to remember what had made her so uncomfortable around Raoul.

"I'm not sure I understand so do enlighten me. You didn't trust him but you still gave him your number?" Erik frowned fiercely and made his disapproval quite plain.

"Well, yes. You can trace cell phone calls, right? If he's one of the ones who killed Sam, then we might be able to find where they are. He seems quite persistent." She tapped the phone's screen to indicate the many text messages he'd already sent. "If that text that came from the killers can be traced to Raoul's phone number then we'll know he's part of it. This way we can do something if he comes with the doctor the next time he checks on the detective."

"Indeed." Erik was impressed. It posed little danger to Alex and yet allowed her to be a part of catching the murderers _if_ it all went as planned. "And what exactly do you propose we do with the boy if he comes back?"

"I dunno," she gave a helpless shrug. "Extracting information was in your job description, I thought, not mine. I'm only here to decorate the furniture and make the coffee." She was frustrated at not being able to do anything to help and it made her snappish and sarcastic.

"Don't be a shrew." He removed the now empty tray and set it on the dresser, pausing slightly before grabbing the sketch pad. "There is something else…" Flipping through to the page with the portrait of him unmasked, Erik turned and laid it in Alex's lap. "When did you draw this?" His voice was soft and emotionless but his eyes captured hers and seemed to bore straight into her soul.

"I…I'm sorry, I should have asked your permission." Alex tore her eyes from his to gaze down at the sketch. Her color was high once more but couldn't stop her finger from tracing just outside the charcoal cheek. "I hope you don't mind? I know I'm not a professional artist or anything so it's not really very good and…"

"Alexandra," His silky smooth voice cut through her nervous babbling and he gently turned her to face him. Alex slowly raised her eyes to his not knowing what to expect. He could be angry; it was a type of invasion of privacy, she supposed, to draw him without the mask. The soft glow in his amber eyes took her breath away. Then his lips were on hers gently, almost reverently, and her eyes fluttered closed as she savoured his kiss. When he raised his head, he smiled and traced her lips with his thumb. "Like you, it is beautiful. Do not dismiss your talent, _ma petite_."

A shiver ran the length of her body as his angelic voice flowed over her like warm honey. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and marveled at how he managed to make her blush more in the past week than she had in her entire life. Opening her eyes slowly, Alex drank in the nearness of his body, the utter manliness of every part of him. Erik was most definitely not soft nor effeminate anywhere and it made her blood sing. Glancing down at the sketch, she tried to think of what to say. How could she tell him that she wanted to capture at least some part of him before they were separated forever?

"Th…thank you. I drew it yesterday after…um," biting her lip she decided the least she said about _that_, the better. "After lunch." That, at least, was technically correct.

"Why?" The word hung in the air between them and Alex panicked searching for something say. When her mind stayed stubbornly blank, she chose the coward's way out.

"I…um, I'd like to go back to sleep now. I'm really tired," she closed the sketch book with shaky hands and laid it on the small table beside the bed. "Th…thank you for…um, for dinner." His silence was starting to unnerve her and her mouth ran away again. "A…and for saving me. I don't know what I would have done if…if you hadn't come when you did but you don't have to worry any more really; I'm not leaving the house again until it's safe to do so because I've learned my lesson and…" Her nervous and hurried words were halted by the slight pressure of his finger across her lips.

"Shhh, hush now, _ma petite_," he smiled at her once more before rising to his feet and moving towards the door. "I'll let you rest for now but I will have an answer." With a small bow Erik took the tray, eased out the door and closed it behind him with a soft click.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 26**

**Oct. ****20 – 6:00pm**

The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the Library and the two men who occupied it. Both were sipping a glass of brandy and discussing their next move. Erik had finally gotten some responses from his earlier inquiries and was now waiting for the telephone traces.

"There have been no missing person's reports at the station nor Jane Does at the morgue," Da'ud had been making calls of his own. "If the girl is dead, why hasn't anyone missed her and what did they do with the body?"

"Her background says she was in foster care for several years before becoming of age and falling out of the system. With no known relatives, perhaps there was no one _to_ miss her?" Erik pulled a couple of sheets from the stack he was going through and passed them to the detective. "What do you make of this?" Da'ud read over both pages quickly before returning them.

"Are you certain this was the company that tried to recruit the parents?" In reply, Erik handed over a third sheet, a photocopy of David Roberts' appointment book of the day he and his wife died. "Hmm…and no one made the connection during young Sam's investigation and trial?"

"Either the judge or the court-ordered attorney were bought. Or both. They knew the outcome of that trial before it ever started. It's too much of a coincidence and you know I don't believe in coincidences. Samuel was snooping in their records even before his parents' deaths so someone was already suspicious. If it wasn't the parents, then who?"

The chime of a cell phone halted their conversation and Erik returned to studying the file while Da'ud answered. He read the addenda to Alexandra's file he had requested concerning her shooting competitions as well as her art. He was quite impressed. Not only did she know how to prep a weapon but she also had deadly accuracy with it. Firing at a living target was exponentially harder, though, and he hoped she'd never have to discover that firsthand. Beyond that piece of information, however, there was nothing really helpful in the additional files he'd requested and he tossed them on the desk with soft growl of frustration. He hated inactivity and especially hated waiting for others to make the first move.

"We either have a break or a problem, I'm not sure which." Da'ud broke through Erik's dark thoughts. "The boy, Raoul, who seemed so infatuated with our Alex doesn't exist. I even sent a fingerprint sample with the request and there were no known matches. It's like he just appeared from no where."

"Or he's been deleted." Erik spun the glass in his hand, his eyes nearly the same color amber as the liquid within it. He scowled suddenly and set the glass down with an abrupt thud. "Dammit, the only way we're going to get answers is to get our hands on that boy. The only way we're going to do that…is to use Alexandra. Since she is unable to leave the Estate, he will have to come to her." He rose and paced restlessly, running one graceful hand through his ebony hair sending it into attractive disarray. "Do you see any other way, _Daroga_?"

"Not at this time, old friend." He watched Erik's pacing with a speculative gleam in his eye and added helpfully, "she wants to help."

"I know, but surely there's another way that will not place her in danger."

"She will not mind, you know."

"But **_I_** mind!" roared the masked man as he glared at Da'ud.

The detective didn't reply, merely lifted an inquisitive brow which Erik studiously ignored. His cell chirped with an incoming text message and, reading it, he chuckled softly. "Your guest states that she is going stir crazy and if she's not removed from her room, she's going to come in here on her own."

"The hell she is!" Erik stalked towards the guest room and Da'ud chuckled again.

Alex had stared at the same four walls for nearly an hour since she'd awakened from her nap. She really hadn't planned to sleep after Erik left but exhaustion from her short walk as well as sparring with her sexy, handsome host had left her more tired than she'd thought. Now, however, she was awake, alert, and bored to sobs. Glancing at the sketch book, she decided not to draw. Lately, everything she sketched centered on a certain man with a pair of amber eyes. She couldn't risk that if he was going to rifle through her work. When the door opened so abruptly that it struck the wall with a loud bang, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Erik! Good God, what's the matter?" Alex placed a hand on her rapidly beating heart to make sure it stayed put.

"If you wish to leave the room," he ground out through gritted teeth, "you have but to ask. You are not to try walking again until you have been told it is safe to do so. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Papa," Alex smiled at him innocently, all the sweetness of a child in her eyes.

As Erik walked into the room, however, she felt her smile falter. His eyes were the color of molten amber and glowed in the dim light. There was danger writ in every elegant, silent step, every searing look and now, more than ever, she was reminded of a panther stalking its prey. And like prey, she was frozen in place and could do nothing but watch with wide eyes as he came closer.

"If I have to tie you to this bed to get you to stop trying to further injure yourself, I will do so," Erik's growl sent shivers down Alex's spine. Then she thought of beds and tying and her sexy masked host and blushed to the point it was painful. The wicked smile he gave revealed he was all too aware of the path her thoughts had meandered. "Just so. Ready?"

She could only nod as she made a valiant attempt to get her wayward thoughts under control. This wasn't at all like her. She'd had boyfriends in the past but none had inspired such sinfully delicious thoughts as this man she knew she couldn't have. When he saw that she'd changed from her nightgown into a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, he growled again and fixed her with a stare so intense she knew he'd have plenty to say later. He scooped her into his arms and started for the Library while Alex concentrated on not oozing from his grasp to puddle at his feet.

Thankfully, Da'ud provided plenty of distraction as he asked about her health and if she was in any pain. Erik placed her on the sofa so she could lie down and she could see the warning in his eyes. She knew better than to attempt to do much more than breathe if she wanted to escape his full wrath. However, if she really thought on it, the last time she'd faced his wrath he'd kissed her and they'd ended up on the chaise in the immensely pleasurable task of removing the other's clothing. When both gentlemen noticed the far-away look that crossed her face and commented on it, Alex gave a squeak of embarrassment and blushed so bright her hair looked dull in comparison. Seeing that look in Erik's eyes, she deflected any questions that were hovering on his lips by inquiring after the file on the desk while making it look as if she was going to rise to grab it. Erik's glare secured her to the sofa more securely than any material restraints.

"If you move from that sofa, so help me God, Alexandra, I will not be responsible for my actions." Having accomplished what she set out to do, she settled back and gently steered the conversation towards the current situation. Da'ud found it all highly amusing and nearly choked on his brandy trying to hide a grin.

**A/N:** Just a short chapter since I've just finished the rough draft of ch32 O.o Since I have so much ready, I figured what the hell? What can I say, I got inspired :D


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 27**

**Oct. ****20 – 6:45pm**

Keeping quiet while the detective filled Alex in on what they'd learned recently, Erik simply watched her and tried to figure out what drew him to her. He'd known her for less than a week and yet the thought of her leaving when all this unpleasantness was over didn't appeal to him at all. Her hair was in tousled disarray like she hadn't bothered to brush it since she woke. She wore no makeup and he could see dark smudges under her eyes from pain and lack of sleep. Though she should be in a nightgown, she was dressed in the most casual of clothing and yet…he couldn't remember seeing anyone so very beautiful. Or stubborn. There were times he wanted nothing more than to wring her pretty little neck and then at other times all he wanted was to kiss her until she made those sweet mewling sounds that had robbed him of sanity in the Music Room. She was sweet and compassionate but also feisty and unwilling to back down from an argument. Would that translate to passion in the bedroom? He could picture her spread across his black silk sheets, her red hair and pale skin a beautiful contrast. Dropping his head in his hands, he sought to calm both his thoughts and his aching arousal. The woman was going to be the death of him yet.

"Erik?" Da'ud's extremely amused voice penetrated his desire-fogged brain.

"What, _Daroga_?" Erik's fierce scowl had sent many running for cover but the detective merely laughed.

"I've said your name four times, my friend, but you seemed lost somewhere far more enjoyable than a mere Library. Some calls have come through and we've gotten some new information. We'd like your input."

"Oh, and I need my sketch book if you don't mind. Unless, of course, you prefer that I get it myself?" Alex didn't know what made her push Erik's buttons but she had to admit that she enjoyed it immensely. She was normally a quiet girl having too long been overshadowed by her brilliant parents and brother. Normally she was the peacekeeper who avoided conflict like the plague; one of her few boyfriends had once asked her, rather nastily, if she had any opinions of her own. He had been pushing her rather persistently into 'proving her love' and lashed out when she refused yet again to jump into bed with him. Needless to say, their relationship ended that night. After their split, he spent the next month tormenting her and called her a 'sheeple' for her tendency to simply go with the flow. But now, with the most dangerous man she'd ever met, she suddenly wanted to see how much she could get away with before he throttled her. Maybe it was the way his eyes flashed when he was irritated that made her want to push her luck? He really was too gorgeous for words.

"Do you really wish for me to answer that, Alexandra?" His angelic voice was steely and her impudence was rewarded with that menacing flash in his golden eyes that set her heart to racing. When she didn't reply, he rose with the sleek feline grace of a panther and stalked out the door. She couldn't help but admire his physique when he left the room and wondered how that grace would translate in the bedroom. At a soft noise, she caught the detective watching her with a knowing grin. Alex just shook her head and tried not to blush like a fourteen year old. Da'ud smirked and returned to the files and his notes, cautiously optimistic that his friend had found someone to heal the scars Christine had left on his heart.

While Erik was gathering the drawing materials, he couldn't resist another look at the portrait she'd drawn of him without his mask. She had captured him perfectly in all his horrific glory and yet…his attention was drawn to his eyes. Alex had put so much emotion in them with so few strokes of her pencil that you almost missed it at first glance. He could see pain and anger but also something else that he couldn't put his finger on. She'd avoided his questions about the picture earlier but they would discuss it and soon. He had to know what she meant by drawing him in such a way; as if he was attractive, as if he wasn't a monster. Closing the book, he returned to the Library only to find the detective very obviously trying _not_ to be amused at something while Alex's skin resembled a very ripe strawberry. He glanced between the two of them and wondered just what he'd missed. Da'ud looked up with one of his oh-so-innocent smiles but the girl refused to look any higher than his knees. With a shake of his head, he decided he probably didn't want to know, gave Alex her things, and retreated to the chair behind the desk.

"What have you got?" Locking away his emotions and personal questions, Erik became focused and business-like once more and was pleased when the detective followed in kind.

"European Electronics is thought to be a front organization for the GRU that buys breakthrough technology as well as lures workers away from competing countries. There are many branches throughout the world though no one can prove what they do with the technology once they have it. The company that approached Mr. and Mrs. Roberts the day they died is the same company Samuel, among others, had been investigating. They are also the company who originally accused Sam of hacking and electronic theft after their attempts to recruit _him_ also failed. And, they own the warehouse we investigated earlier in the week."

"What?" Alex looked up from the sketch she was working on and stared at Da'ud in shock. "This…this company is responsible for my parents' and my brother's deaths? But why?"

"It isn't an actual company, Alexandra," Erik explained, concerned at how pale she'd gotten. "A front organization is merely a pretty façade for other companies or organizations to hide behind, similar to the money laundering companies for organized crime. I doubt there are any physical offices in any of the countries in which they operate. Few are suspicious of a large entity that uses a postal box."

"Exactly," Da'ud nodded in agreement. "European Electronics provides a legitimate sounding work environment with great benefits and pay; however, it is really just the GRU in disguise. Understandably, few who've gone to work for them were ever seen again. The official word is they were relocated to another branch and simply lost touch with those they left behind. Of those who have resurfaced are two names you should recognize, Alex: Martin Szoboszlay and Frederick Winkfield."

"Sammy's attorney and the judge!"

"Yes. The whole accusation and trial was a sham. The company manufactured false documents to provide evidence of your brother's theft and even deposited money into an off shore bank account in his name. They had been trying to intimidate Samuel into joining them since it was clear he was extremely brilliant and persistent but he refused them at every turn. It seems he was already suspicious of their role in the deaths of your parents. Once he was released, they approached him again only this time they threatened the one thing he held most dear." The detective looked at Alex as comprehension dawned and the little remaining color drained from her face. "You were his only remaining family and he was desperate to protect you. He gathered information and mailed some of it to you and gave the rest to one of his friends at the café. When Samuel was killed, the friend went into hiding and was found only a few hours ago."

"My God…" Alex could barely absorb all the detective was telling her. It sounded like something out of a spy novel or action flick. She was so far out of her league it was pathetic and, though she was already scared, now she was terrified. Desperately, she turned to the one person who could keep her safe as tears formed in her eyes. "Erik? What do I do? This is so…" She made a helpless gesture with her hand as her voice trailed off.

"You will be safe, Alexandra," he moved to sit beside her and gently take her in his arms. "No matter what else may happen, I will protect you." He held her close and stroked her hair, whispering soft words of comfort. When her tears ceased, she pulled back with a watery smile.

"Thank you," she wiped her eyes with her fingers until they were suddenly filled with Erik's handkerchief. "You'd think I'd be through with crying by now. I'm sorry for being such a pest."

"Hush, _petite_, never apologize for being afraid. It's when you fear nothing that you must worry." He trailed a finger along her cheek before leaning in to kiss her softly. As he returned to the desk he caught Da'ud's eye and scowled at the perceptive smile he wore.

**A/N:** I truly hope European Electronics does not exist in the real world as I think I've just slandered them if so :P

Also, the name Szoboszlay comes from a guy my hubby works with. It's pronounced SOH-buh-sly...or at least that's how he pronounces it :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters or the lovely song included in this phic.

**Chapter 28**

**Oct. 20 –8:30pm**

Once she was finished with the sketch of Raoul, she tore it from the pad so Da'ud could fax it to his friends in both the police department and the Agency. Though there had been no luck tracing the supposed intern's name, it was hoped the portrait might jar someone's memory. At least she had done _something_ to help out. They had also contacted some people to do some stealthy digging into European Electronics to see if there were any other known employees or associates. Most of the discussion had descended into cross-referencing the data and making lists of those they felt were the most trustworthy. Staring down at the blank page of her sketch pad, she glanced quickly at the two men and wondered if they'd notice she was no longer listening. Biting her lip, she knew she had to draw him as he was tonight: casual, relaxed and yet somehow still intense. The pull of sketching Erik was strong so she settled into the sofa and started with her favorite feature: his eyes. Whoever said that the eyes were the windows to the soul had described Erik's perfectly. When he was unguarded, she could see so much passion in them that it was nearly frightening in its intensity. She wondered what it would be like to be graced with the affections of such a man.

Slowly, she became more and more absorbed with the portrait and tuned out the men's conversation. Wanting to capture every facet of the enigma known as Erik Devereaux, she drew him with the black half-mask. It could lend him such a frightening aura but most of the time he simply exuded a sensual mystery that commanded attention. It was that sensuous, dark, passionate side she wanted to put to paper. His hair was mussed like he'd run his hands through it several times or just crawled out of bed. She could feel her cheeks heating up as she wondered what he'd look like first thing in the morning; did he sleep in the nude? Smiling faintly as she indulged in "what ifs," Alex wasn't aware she was humming softly until Erik called her name.

"Yes?" She blinked owlishly, wondering what she'd missed. "I'm sorry, I was…um…occupied." She quickly closed the sketch book and placed it and her pencils on the sofa beside her. Looking around, she noticed they were alone in the room.

"The _daroga_ was tired from being on his feet so much today and so has retired early. I caught your attention, Alexandra, because I was wondering what you were humming? I don't believe I've ever heard it before." Erik's eyes lingered on the sketch pad some seconds after she'd closed it before raising them to capture hers.

"Oh…" Alex blushed faintly. How did he always manage to ask the most embarrassing questions? "It's just a pop song, Erik, nothing worthy of someone with your talent, I'm sure."

"Try me." He moved to the chair Da'ud had vacated and pulled it closer to the sofa. Leaning back, he wondered what kind of song brought the color to Alex's lovely cheeks.

"No!" She bit her lip as she thought frantically. There had to be a way out of this; there was no way she could tell him the words to that song! "I told you I was a terrible singer, Erik, and I'm sure you have work to do." Erik chuckled and reached over to the desk for the laptop.

"I'm sure you can find it online, correct? And just to be clear, you're not going to bed, getting dinner, or anything else to evade my questions this time, _ma petite_. We shall touch on the sketch book in a moment but first…the song, if you please."

Alex took the machine automatically but prayed the sofa would come to life and simply swallow her whole. Glancing up, she knew she'd not get out of this. He was relaxed and friendly but there was a steely determination beneath it all that let her know she was trapped. Typing in the URL for YouTube, she located the song and clicked on play. When the lovely voice of Amy Belle sang through the speakers, Alex gave the laptop back to Erik but refused to look at him.

"_Close your eyes what do you see on the inside?  
A long remembered memory of tears once cried  
Of a different place and a different time  
And it's long ago and far away on the other side  
Tomorrow was yesterday  
The truth was denied  
In a different place and a different time_

_And we're here, now  
All you have to know is I am close  
And I will never go  
I understand all the pain you've been through  
If you hear nothing else, hear this:  
I love you"_

As the song continued, Alex felt the sofa dip under Erik's weight as he moved to sit facing her. He reached for her sketch book and turned it to the portrait she'd been working on that night. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap as she fought back tears. The song laid bare feelings she was still trying to sort through for herself; feelings she never intended for him to know.

_"Through it all and in between_

_A voice from the past_

_In your days and in your dreams_

_A question to ask_

_Do you know how it feels to be under the wheels?_

_And we're here, now  
All you have to know is I am close  
And I will never go  
I understand all the pain you've been through  
If you hear nothing else, hear this:  
I love you"_

She winced at the reminder of his past and the woman he loved. Having held onto his memories of Christine for five long years, Alex knew better than to imagine she could draw him to her in a mere week. Why oh why did she have to hum that particular song? One mortified tear inched its way down her heated cheek. She could only hope that he was too distracted with the song and the sketchbook to notice this further humiliation.

"_Your hard times are over_

_Your long roller coaster ride_

_Draws to an end_

_Now that your mine_

_And we're here, now  
All you have to know is I am close  
And I will never go  
So sorry for all the pain you've been through  
If you hear nothing else, hear this:  
I love you_

_Close your eyes what do you see on the inside?"_

When the song faded away, the silence in the room was oppressive. Alex knew that if she tried to say anything she'd only embarrass herself more and, really, what could she say? It wasn't like the song was very subtle, after all. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she reached for her sketch pad with shaking hands. She wanted nothing more than to hide in the bedroom and die of shame. When Erik refused to release the book to her, she could feel that tiny thread of control fraying. Caring only for the sanctuary of her room, she stood to flee the Library and cry in solitude.

Quickly, Erik stood with a faint growl of frustration and swept her into his arms. He kicked the door closed behind him and lit the small bedside lamp. He could feel her body trembling with silent tears; so instead of laying her on the bed alone, he stretched out and held her close to him. As he stroked her hair gently, he was struck speechless by the possible meanings of her humming such a tune while she sketched him. Did she really care so much for him or was she simply clinging to whatever was safe and steady in her chaotic life? If that was so, wouldn't she have drawn at least one picture of the detective? He knew she felt something for him, their kisses in the Music Room proved that. But how deep did her feelings go? What did he feel for her?

"It was a beautiful song, _ma petite_." Erik whispered softly against her hair as he planted a soft kiss to her head. "Nearly as beautiful as you. Will you answer me now, Alexandra? Why mar so much beauty with drawings of a beast?" He tapped the sketch pad that was laying beside him.

"What?" Alex sat up quickly to gape at him in shock only to collapse against his chest as pain shot through her side. "You are not a beast, Erik; a moody, temperamental, enigmatic, sexy pain in my ass, maybe, but never a beast."

**A/N:** The song is appropriately named "I Love You" and is by Scottish singer Amy Belle. It is truly beautiful and I encourage everyone to give it a try. Like Alex, you can find it on YouTube.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. Please read the note at the bottom!

**Chapter 29**

**Oct. ****21 – 6:30am**

The morning sun struggling against the heavily curtained window found Erik pouring his troubled thoughts into the piano. The music was in turns hopeful and despairing, joyful and pained, excited and filled with dread. These feelings that were growing within him for the unpredictable Alexandra Roberts confused him as much as they thrilled him. Could he risk reaching for a second chance of happiness? But then, what of Christine? He'd sworn he'd love her until his last breath and beyond and yet…since Da'ud had brought him a fiery auburn-haired minx, he'd managed to go days without thinking of her at all. The nights had begun to be peaceful as well. For the first time in five years he was sleeping through the night with no painful nightmares to jolt him from his rest.

Without realizing it, his playing shifted into the melody of the song she'd been humming last night as she drew. Erik wasn't a fan of so-called popular music but the emotions of the song and the beauty of the singer's voice had him reconsidering his disdain. Beside, what had she meant by humming such a song at such a time? She'd deflected that question each and every time; no matter how many ways he worded it to catch her off her guard. And then her reasoning for drawing him…enigmatic, he could understand; moody and temperamental, he most definitely agreed; but sexy? She found _him_ sexy? No matter how much he'd pushed, she refused to expand further and he eventually took pity on her and dropped the subject. They shared a light meal, she took some medicine to help with pain, and then he left her to rest.

Sleep would not come for him, however. Though his nights were no longer filled with reliving the nightmarish betrayal of his once-beloved Christine, now he was more determined than ever to remove all that would harm Alexandra. He still wasn't sure what he felt, or how deep his feelings ran, but he definitely knew it was time to let go of the past and explore those feelings without the guilt of betrayal eating away at him. For five long years, Erik's heart had remained firmly in Christine's hands even after she'd forcefully proven she wasn't a good steward of his regard. Little by little, Alexandra had pried his former lover's fingers from that aching muscle and returned it to him. It was beaten and battered but no longer broken. Under her gentle care, he felt it might heal and even flourish.

Before that could happen, he had to remove the threat that overshadowed them. Erik pushed away from the piano and started up the stairs to his bedroom. As he gathered the things he would need, he called the front gate and told the head of security to arrange it so that the night and midday shifts overlapped with each other and the morning shift for at least one hour. He wanted no gaps during shift change. He also stressed that if someone got past the guards and near the house again, they would all be looking for new jobs. Satisfied that the security chief and was sufficiently convinced it wasn't an idle threat, Erik jogged down the stairs to knock lightly on Alexandra's door.

The gentle tapping on the door brought Alex out of the most pleasant of dreams involving herself and her host. Not pleased at all for her fantasy to be interrupted, she rather snappishly called for whoever it was to enter. Expecting Da'ud, she was not prepared for Erik to glide in and perch on the edge of her bed. Wearing his flesh toned mask that blended so well with the rest of his face, blue jeans, a stark white dress shirt, and what appeared to be boots of some sort, he looked good enough to eat. Alex remembered some of the more vivid moments in her dream and blushed faintly.

"Good morning, Erik," she was inordinately proud that her voice didn't waver. Now if she could just turn off the switch that kept her blushing like a school girl with a crush she'd be alright.

"_Bonjour, ma petite_," he picked up her hand from where it lay on the blankets and placed a soft kiss to the back. Turning it over, he repeated the gesture on her palm; only this time he lingered and she could swear she felt the tip of his tongue dart out to taste her. His grin when she blushed once more – that damn switch must be broken – told her he knew what he was doing to her and was enjoying it immensely. "I am going into town today to gather what intel I can. I want you to remain prone; however, I will be satisfied if you choose to sit. What I will not be pleased to hear is if you've attempted to walk for any other reason than visits to the lady's room. Do I make myself clear?"

"What about meals? Surely you don't expect Da'ud to be able to prepare them on his crutches, do you?" Alex wasn't sure she liked the idea of Erik going off alone. How would they know if anything happened to him?

"I want you to order in. Security has been notified to expect a call from the house concerning food deliveries and they will accept, pay for, and deliver the meals to the house. Da'ud knows the verification routine so let him handle it. If he's asleep, awaken him. I do not want you on your feet."

"I understand." Now that the pain killers have worn off, she might just stay in bed all day. Shifting slightly, she winced as the pain shot down her side again.

"Excellent. I'll bring you something to eat and some coffee. Did you need another pain killer?" He'd noticed she was hurting this morning and that concerned him; the medication should last longer than that.

"Oh…maybe not right now but if you could bring it to me, I'll take it after I eat if I can't get back to sleep."  
With a nod, Erik headed for the kitchen to fix a light meal of fruit, toast, jam, and coffee. He added a glass of water and one of the pain tablets as well and returned to Alex's room. Helping her sit up, he placed the tray over her lap and planted a tender kiss on her brow.

"I should be back some time tonight so get some rest. Is there anything else you need before I go?" He was slowly stroking her soft cheek without really being aware of what he was doing; he simply enjoyed touching her. Alex leaned into his hand and shook her head. He had already opened the door when she bade him to be careful. The smile he gave her before leaving the room very nearly stopped her heart. It seemed to be full of promise…but promise of what? As the door clicked shut, she started on her breakfast but her thoughts were on Erik. She prayed he'd be safe.

The last stop on his way out was at Da'ud's room. Erik knocked as a courtesy then slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. He explained to the detective that he wanted to return to Alex's apartment to see if it was still under watch. If not, then it was one more clue that Raoul was working with the murderers. No need to watch a building when they know where the girl is. He also wanted to pay a little visit to the judge and lawyer that worked Samuel's case; perhaps they needed to learn there were things in the world that were far worse than what the GRU could come up with. Da'ud quickly scribbled the home and work addresses for both men. He'd feel sorry for them but the only thing that's worse than a dirty judge is a dirty cop. He had little use for lawyers in general. If he had time, Erik planned to stop by Lizzie Butler's house and check over it one more time during the day to see if there was anything he'd missed the first time. And finally, he was going to acquire the full blueprints to the old opera house. If that, indeed, was where Christine and her crew were holed up, he wanted to be familiar with the layout instead of wading in blind.

The detective, concerned about the danger of any or all of these tasks, convinced Erik to wear the small ear-piece radio and mic. Though he couldn't be there to provide back up, he did know some former police officers who'd answer his call with no questions asked. Erik accepted the small device without argument seeing the wisdom in having a direct line of communication to someone he trusted. Before taking his leave, he relayed his orders concerning meals and Alexandra's mobility, brought the back up weapon from the Library to the detective's room, and a tray of food for breakfast.

**Oct. ****21 – 9:15am**

The parking garage was empty at this time of the day with most of the apartment's residents at work or university so Erik had no trouble finding a spot on the same level as Alex's car. He'd driven the silver Durango in hopes of finding his motorcycle or purchasing a new one. Affixing a false name tag to his shirt, he pulled a small toolbox from the back of the truck and approached the car. Circling it, he couldn't see anything out of place and so resigned himself to looking underneath. As he slid beneath the car, he immediately noticed the three wires that snaked along the chassis like evil serpents. Following them towards the front, he lost them as they disappeared into the frame. Changing direction, he followed them to a small plastic covered box and then continued on towards the rear of the vehicle. Double wired, then. Damn. Sliding his Gerber from his pocket, he popped it open to the thinnest blade available and gently pried the casing apart. Inside was the usual mess of wires, detonator, and enough C4 to take out everything within a 100 foot radius. The two small vials on either side of the plastic explosives are what really made him worry: mercury tilt switches. Fuck.

Examining the switches, he saw that they were on a lever and pendulum setup similar in design to a child's seesaw. If he were to remove one of the vials the other would immediately shift angle, complete the circuit to the explosives, and they'd be wiping up his remains with a sponge. That would really throw a monkey wrench in his day. Using the same blade as on the casing, Erik watched the switches closely as he shaved off small sections of the compound. If he applied too much pressure or tried to remove too much of the explosives at a time, he'd move the car just enough to set the bead of mercury in the switches to shifting and rolling in their vials. Once he had two small but equal amounts of the compound, he rolled and pressed them into cubes that were identical in height. Taking a cube in each hand, Erik drew in a steadying breath and began easing them both under the lever holding the two mercury switches. Satisfied that they were in place and secure, he switched the Gerber to a small screwdriver and began removing the clamps holding the switches in place. Easing the switch away from the explosives, he snipped the wires holding it to the car first and then the C4 rendering it relatively safe. He placed it in a foam filled compartment in the tool box and started working on the other. Focused on the delicate task of removing the clamps holding the second switch, he thought little of the sound of screeching tires and a thumping bass until it became too loud to ignore. From under Alex's vehicle, Erik watched with a detached sense of horror as the young driver took the turn too wide and temporarily lost control.

**A/N: **A few things to explain, I suppose, and one thing to stress. The first is that **I, in no way, know how to build an actual explosive device.** In case you missed it the first time, I don't know how to build an actual bomb; please don't send the CIA after me. They're scary. The one attached to Alex's car is a combination of parts learned in quick Wikipedia searches and waaaay too many action movies.

Now, facts:

1. C4 does exist; it is a common plastic explosive used by the military and demolition crews. It is similar in consistency to modeling clay and can be shaped in the same way. It's nearly 1 ½ times more powerful than TNT so not something to sneeze at.

2. Mercury Tilt Switches, again, do exist. They're little glass vials with a bead of mercury and two electrical contacts inside. When the vial is tilted, the mercury rolls down to touch the two contacts and completes the circuit.

The part that is artistic license is that I have no clue if the way this is set up if it would do anything but sit there and look silly.

3.** I, in no way, know how to build an actual explosive device. **(in case you forgot)


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 30**

**Oct. 21 – 9:30am**

_ From under Alex's vehicle, Erik watched with a detached sense of horror as the young driver took the turn too wide and temporarily lost control. _

The flashy Corvette swerved suddenly as the driver pulled on the wheel hard sending it into a mostly controlled spin. Erik could feel Alex's car sway when it barely missed the back bumper to screech to a stop near the far wall. The driver and his companion, drunken college kids if he had to guess, just laughed loudly, threw the car back into gear, and roared back out of the parking garage. If they'd known all the things the man under the car envisioned doing to them, it might have jolted them out of their drunken stupor. Muttering curses in every language he knew, which was quite a lot, Erik swiftly removed the second switch, cut the wires, and placed it in its foam compartment. Next, he removed the C4 and the wires, hiding them under the false bottom of the tool box. Most people wouldn't know what the tilt switches were but C4 was used commonly enough in demolition and the movies that he didn't want to risk it being seen. Swiftly, he inspected the undercarriage one more time to ensure there wasn't a second, less obvious device. When he found nothing, he disabled the car alarm and rolled from beneath the car.

He made swift work of the trunk's lock and removed Alex's laptop. Erik then searched the entire trunk area for anything Samuel may have hidden away. Satisfied there was nothing of interest in the trunk, he moved to the driver's side door and picked that lock as well. A quick search through the glove box revealed only one surprise, a snub nosed revolver and a concealed carry permit. Erik slipped both into the tool box and continued searching the car thoroughly. Finished, he locked the car door and returned to his truck. Placing the tool box in a concealed compartment under the back seats, he climbed in and moved the car to a metered parking spot two blocks away.

On the walk back to Alex's apartment, Erik kept a sharp eye out for anyone who might be watching for her still. After a week, he knew the police had reduced their time to periodic drive bys but the killers might still have it under surveillance. Making no effort at concealment, he entered the complex through the front door and up the flight of stairs to her door. Utilizing the key Alex had given him, he unlocked the door but hesitated to open it when he heard someone moving around inside. Pulling out his weapon, he stood off to the side and swung the door open. A very scared, very feminine shriek could be heard inside which gave him pause. Who was in Alexandra's apartment?

Hiding the pistol behind his back, Erik slowly stepped into the doorway trying to find the source of the sound. A blur of movement off to his left caught his attention and he silently crept closer. Whoever it was had slipped into Alex's bedroom. Perfect. He covered the distance quickly and quietly; listening at the door, he heard muffled crying. Whoever was in there was terrified at being found. Sifting through possible scenarios, Erik decided to take the straightest route and kicked the door open. Holding his weapon at the ready, he raced across the room just in time to stop the bathroom door from slamming closed. When it slammed against the wall, the intruder screamed again and huddled against the corner under the sink begging for her life.

"And who might you be, _mademoiselle_?" Keeping his voice low and soothing, Erik holstered his weapon and crouched down to get a better look at her. The girl was familiar in some way but he couldn't quite place her.

"Who are you? Why are you in Alex's apartment? Where is she?" The poor thing was bordering on hysteria and he had simply too much to do today to deal with this as well.

"Alexandra is safe at my home, _mademoiselle_, under the care and protection of Detective al-Zahir. That still does not explain your presence in her home." Could this be the missing friend? There had been no reports of a body, identified or not, that matched the girl's description. If so, how in hell did she get away alive?

"She's safe? Really?" Either the girl deserved to be on the big screen or her relief was genuine.

"Yes. Would you happen to be Ms. Lizzie Butler perchance?" The terror that crossed her face confirmed her identity. Erik rose and extended his hand to her. "Come, I'll take you somewhere safe. We feared the worst, Ms. Butler."

Lizzie curled into a tighter ball under the sink not trusting the handsome stranger. Anyone could say they knew Alex, knew where she was, but unless she had proof that it was so, she wasn't leaving with anyone. It had taken her days to get away the first time! She noticed the tall stranger seemed to understand her hesitance, though, as he took out a cell phone and made a phone call. He spoke in some language she couldn't understand and then telling the person on the other line to hold for a second, handed her the phone. Not knowing what to expect, Lizzie cautiously accepted and whispered a scared hello.

When Da'ud told her she had a phone call, Alex frowned at him in confusion. The only people who might call her wouldn't know the detective's number. Easing into a sitting position, she accepted the phone with a timid greeting only to hear Erik telling her to hold for a moment. Strange. Why call if he's going to put her on hold? Then a voice she thought she'd never hear again whispered a terrified hello and she did the only thing she could. She burst into tears.

Erik left Lizzie to search the rest of the apartment. No one had confronted him on the sidewalk or the stairwell and even now, he was being left alone in the apartment. Obviously, someone either knew where Alex was or at the very least knew she was no longer living here. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he returned to find Lizzie sitting on Alex's bed still talking rapidly but a lot calmer than before. When she saw him in the doorway, she beamed up at him through her tears and mouthed a thank you. He indicated the need for her to return the phone and, though she did so reluctantly, she complied.

"Alexandra, call Da'ud back to the phone." Never before had he been so glad to be proven wrong. The joy he could hear in her voice made the entire trip worth it; now if he could only keep the girl safe. When the detective picked up, they discussed the possible safe houses for Lizzie. Erik didn't want to bring another to his Estate especially with two already injured. Da'ud had listed several possible locations when Alex came back onto the line.

"Erik, if you need a place for Lizzie, tell her to go to the Lake House. Since it's listed in my mother's maiden name it shouldn't be linked to me right away. She knows how to get there and where we keep the spare key."

"Excellent, _ma petite_. I'll send her up there with an agent tonight." Quickly dialing a second number, Erik made arrangements for a friend that still worked in the Agency to come by and take Lizzie to the Lake House. Though she could hear only half the conversation, she knew she was going to be moved so she pulled a small suitcase out of the closet and packed a few of Lizzie's things that would fit her. Less than twenty minutes later, she was in a black sedan with a rather handsome agent heading out of town.

**Oct. 21 – 11:00am**

Locking up the apartment, he again made no attempt at stealth while walking back to his vehicle. The area remained clear so he concluded that Raoul was, indeed, working with the killers. He stopped at the small café where Samuel met his friends and ordered a light meal. The atmosphere was decidedly bleak and, in listening to the conversation around him, there were many who were saddened by the death of the boy. He made a note to bring Alexandra here after everything was over so she could meet the people who admired and mourned her brother. Learning nothing else, he paid his tab and headed into the center of town for a copy of the blueprints for the opera house.

Erik parked between the archives building and the courthouse, placing him about a block from each. The clerk took his request and rattled off the fee for retrieval and copies which he paid in advance. Since it was going to be a few hours before the complete set of blueprints were available, he left his cell phone number with the clerk and walked towards the courthouse. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy his visit with a certain judge. He also felt that the judge wouldn't return the sentiment.

**A/N:** Again thank you all for your kind reviews. If you'd like, please check out my second story, Innocent Deceptions, that I've recently started. :)


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 31**

**Oct. 21 – Noon**

The courthouse wasn't its usual hive of activity due to the lunch hour; most of the offices were closed and bore "Back in 1 Hour" signs. Because of this, Erik was able to make it all the way to the judge's reception area without confrontation. The sign on the door was a mockery: The Honorable Judge F. Winkfield. He wondered just how honorable the judge's associates would think him if they knew he was on the take? As he entered, a bell chimed cheerfully and the receptionist completed whatever she'd been typing before looking up. Erik informed her that, no, he didn't have an appointment but was quite certain Winkfield would see him. After several words about how busy the man was, he simply gave her a business card and told her to take it to the judge. Within moments he was being ushered into the office.

Once the door was closed, he leaned against it to observe the man behind the large desk. The suit was custom fitted and far beyond the salary of a public servant, his hands were perfectly manicured, grey roots revealed he dyed his hair, and faint scarring near his ears betrayed his vanity. Everything about the man was soft from his pudgy hands to his impressive girth; everything except the eyes. This wasn't a man who'd betrayed his office reluctantly and under coercion. There were no threats to his family or dirty little secrets he hoped wouldn't filter to the press. The pale blue eyes that met Erik's golden ones were cold and calculating; he'd voluntarily crossed the line and reveled in it. That'd make things so much easier.

"The infamous Fantôme," Winkfield sneered. "Should I be flattered?" Erik simply turned and locked the door and then began circling the perimeter of the room. "What has brought you to my door? Did I put one of your friends in jail? A lover, perchance?" At the continued silence, the judge started getting nervous. "Come now, dear boy, how can I assist you if you won't tell me what's going on?"

Checking the small device disguised as a PDA to pass through security, Erik approached the floor lamp and removed the bulb. He pulled out a small item no bigger than his thumbnail snapped it between his fingers. Replacing the bulb, he continued to circle the room. He found two more electronic listening devices before he was satisfied the room was clean. Unplugging the phone from the wall, Erik stalked over to the sweating man behind the desk and took a position behind him. He let his hands rest heavily on the judge's shoulders.

"Now we may talk, Winkfield." Erik's voice was golden honey flowing over a razor's sharpened blade. "And you will tell me anything and everything you know about European Electronics or I shall get extremely…displeased." The graceful hands gripped the man's shoulders tightly before relaxing once more.

"Euro…European Who?" Winkfield chuckled nervously as the sweat rolled down his round face. "I'm not one of those fancy Silicon Valley hot shots, my boy; I'm just a judge doing my duty to…" The sudden loss of oxygen halted the judge's ramblings and Erik tightened the catgut cord just a tiny bit more.

"Come now, Winkfield," his voice was still polite, friendly even, but the judge could hear the steel underlying every beautiful note. "I know you don't want to make this any harder than it has to be. Are you scared they'll come after you? Don't be. You see, I plan on relieving every single one that I can find from the inconvenience of breathing." He loosened the lasso slightly, allowing just enough air to remove the purple tint of the judge's face. "Since I'm so certain that you'd never," the cord tightened slightly then relaxed again, "willingly betray your office, I know you're going to tell me everything I need to know."

"You're crazy!" Winkfield was hitting the silent alarm button frantically with his knee and wondering why he'd yet to hear sirens. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Pity," Erik tsked softly, "I was hoping you'd be useful to me. But it seems you are not so I have no more use for you." He tightened the lasso slightly, letting the man feel it slowly cutting off his air supply.

"What? Wait!" The judge gasped, struggling for air. "You can't do this! You don't know who you're messing with, boy!"

"Believe me, I do. You are such a small, insignificant part of the whole operation that you can't even see that you're expendable to them. Why owe them your loyalty when they haven't even answered that alarm you keep pushing so desperately?" Leaning down, he spoke softly, persuasively in the corpulent judge's ear. "If they're going to leave you to die, why not take some of them down with you?"

"Okay, damn you! But I want your guarantee that they won't come after me!"

"Certainly." If the judge could have seen Erik's smile, he would have been more frightened than ever. Instead, he told all that he knew about the operation, information about Samuel's trial, and his contact routine if he needed to speak to them. He wrote down names, numbers, addresses, anything he could think would prove useful and keep him alive. When he had run out of information, he sat quivering in his chair.

"Where are you going to hide me? I can't stay here. I've always been partial to the Bahamas."

"Hide you?" Erik chuckled softly and chills ran down the judge's spine. "Why, I'm going to hide you in plain sight." With a sharp tug, the rope snapped the man's neck and he fell forward onto the desk, dead. Gathering all the notes Winkfield had made, Erik slipped out the door chuckling softly. He'd kept his side of the deal after all; no one would be going after the good judge now.

He waited for the receptionist to leave the office for lunch so that he could pencil in a few more visitors for Winkfield. He easily duplicated her handwriting and added two of the names the judge had given him as being part of European Electronics. Lastly, he wrote that the judge had to take an important conference call at 1:00pm and wasn't to be disturbed under any circumstances. Satisfied, he left the court house and was on the way to the lawyer's office when his telephone rang. The archives had his blueprints ready.

**Oct. 21 – Noon (Devereaux Estates)**

Her cell phoned chirped and Alex wondered if her warranty would cover it if she threw it across the room. Raoul had been texting her almost every half hour since 8:00am. Grumbling, she reached for the phone and read the message, rolling her eyes when it was pretty much the same as all the others: he missed her, wanted to see her again, when could they go out, blah blah blah. Three texts ago she'd given up on telling him to stop and finally just powered down the phone.

Pulling the blankets over her, she attempted once more to fall asleep. She'd been meaning to ask Da'ud if the heat was malfunctioning since her room had been alternating between cold and hot all morning. Having finally stopped the cell phone's incessant chirping, Alex drifted into a troubled sleep.

_Shivering, Alex rubbed her hands along her arms; it was so very cold. The room was dark with not even a window to cast shadows on the unseen walls. In the distance, she could hear Da'ud screaming and yelling as if in pain. Oh, God…someone help him! Can't you hear he's hurt? Walking slowly as she felt her way across the room, she stumbled over something large and soft on the floor. Kneeling, she was running her hands over it to see what it was when a light came on overhead and revealed her brother's decaying body. She choked on a scream when she heard a door opening nearby._

_ Looking up, Erik stood in the doorway wearing his black _Fantôme_ stealth gear and mask. Alex gave a cry and ran towards him, seeking the security she always found in his arms. Just before she reached him, however, Christine stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. In shock, Alex stared as he pulled the petite brunette into his arms and kissed her passionately. She could feel the tears rolling down her face as she watched them._

_ "Did you think he could ever love you, Alex? He loves me; he always has and always will." Christine's cruel laugh echoed around the room. Erik joined her in her laughter and, with a wave of his hand, one of the walls dropped away to reveal the detective hanging from wrist shackles. The skin of his legs had been peeled away to reveal the muscle beneath. Da'ud's pain-filled eyes focused on Alex as he asked her why she'd killed him. Shaking her head, she apologized over and over; she'd never meant for anyone to get hurt. When strong hands closed over her wrists to pull her to a metal table, she couldn't even dredge up the strength to resist. She was lifted to lie upon the cold metal while straps were fastened over her wrists and ankles. A knife flashed in the dim light and her brother laughed as he brought it swiftly down into her chest over and over. _

_ "Aren't you happy, Alex?" Samuel leaned close, his dead eyes boring into hers while maggots fell from his clothing onto her. "Now we'll be together like we always have been!" She screamed as Erik and Christine laughed while her brother chopped her into small pieces on the table._

Alex's scream shattered the comfortable silence. Da'ud grabbed the pistol and hobbled as quickly as he could to her room. Pushing the door open, he looked around the room for an intruder before noticing the frantically thrashing girl on the bed. A nightmare. Placing the pistol within reach, he moved to the bed to try to restrain her so she wouldn't hurt herself or open up her wound. Cursing in Farsi when Alex connected with a fist, he finally managed to pin her arms down. He just knew he was going to have a black eye later. He called her name several times before her eyes opened and focused on his face.

"Da'ud?" Alex's voice cracked hoarsely when she whispered his name and she fainted in his arms. Feeling her forehead, the detective cursed once more. She was burning up with fever.


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters and Alex informs me I don't own her either.

**Chapter 32**

**Oct. 23 – 6:00pm**

Two days had passed since Erik had gotten the call about Alex's fever. Two days of antibiotics and IV fluids. Two days of watching helplessly as she tossed and turned in fever-induced nightmares. It tore at his heart to hear her beg for forgiveness though she never said from whom. Erik called Dr. Matthews twice a day, worried Alex should be in the hospital instead of at the Estate. Every time, the doctor would assure him that she was receiving better care with him than in a sterile hospital room with only occasional checks by a nurse.

On the third day, Alex muttered softly and kicked off the numerous blankets that had been placed over her. Looking up from the opera house blueprints he'd been studying, Erik noticed the sheen of sweat on her face. Hopeful, he checked her temperature and nearly wept at the reading. The fever had broken. Dr. Matthews was called and he recommended keeping her on the IV and antibiotics for at least three more days. He arranged to examine her the next day and had been satisfied with Alex's progress. With plenty of rest, fluids, and antibiotics she would recover quickly with only a dime-sized scar where the bullet had entered. Though pleased by the news, it didn't belay Erik's concern that she'd still not yet awakened.

By nightfall, he was tempted to call the doctor once more and demand he return to check on Alex. Instead, he sat by her bed, held her hand, and did the one thing he swore he'd never do again. He sang. He started wordlessly at first, humming lullabies and love songs from the operas he'd written including his unpublished _Don Juan Triumphant_. But soon, the words seemed to flow out of him and he sang of rebirth and renewal, springtime and possibility, broken hearts and healing. A slight movement from the bed caught his attention and the song faded away as he looked into Alex's shocked pale green eyes.

"Angel…" she managed to whisper past the lump in her throat. "Surely you must've come straight from heaven to have such a voice."

"You're awake." Erik could have slapped himself for such an idiotic observation. "How are you feeling, _ma petite_?" That was better at least.

"Thirsty. Achy." Alex frowned and slowly looked around the room. "What happened?"

"Your wound had gotten infected so you had a bad fever. Let me fetch you some water and we can talk if you still feel up to it."

As he quickly left the room, bits and pieces of Alex's nightmares filtered into her memory and dredged up all her insecurities. She'd been dreaming of a future with a man who could have any woman he chose except the one he loved. She now saw how foolish her dreams had been. Erik was talented in so many fields, composing, singing, architecture and all she had was the mediocre ability to sketch. He was inhumanly sexy whereas she was so…not. She was pulled from her melancholy thoughts by Erik's return with her water.

He helped her to sit up, arranging the pillows behind her so she'd be comfortable, and handed her the glass. She winced only slightly as the movement tugged on her injury but didn't make a sound. Nor would she meet his eyes. Watching her carefully, Erik noticed her hands were shaking on the glass as well. What had happened in the few minutes it took to pour a glass of water?

"Are you in pain, Alexandra?" His soft voice pierced her heart when he used her name instead of the endearment he'd been wont to use.

"No," she whispered and set the glass on the nightstand, "but I am tired. I think I'll go back to sleep, thank you." Carefully, she rolled over onto her uninjured side which put her back to the confused masked man by her bed.

"Alexandra." His smooth voice flowed over her like warm honey. "What is wrong, _ma petite_?"

"Nothing. I'm just tired, that's all." She was glad he couldn't see her tears; she didn't need or want his pity. What a fool she was.

"As you wish but we shall talk later." He slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him, wondering again what had upset her.

Erik stalked into the Library to pour himself a glass of brandy. He was well on his way to an enormously foul mood. Da'ud, sitting at the sofa, put the book he was reading into his lap and watched his friend empty one glass only to fill another.

"I do not understand women, _Daroga_." He didn't turn as he spoke but he knew the detective was listening. "One moment all is well then, when I go to the kitchen for her water, I return to find her clearly upset but unwilling to discuss it."

"I don't know what to tell you, my friend, unless it has something to do with her nightmares. I'm sure she simply needs time."

"Time? Time is something that is not on my side, Da'ud. We're getting close to resolving this mess and then there will be no reason to keep her here." Erik had begun pacing,

"Have you tried simply asking?"

"She wouldn't," with a sigh, he turned his back on his friend and raised the mask to run a hand over weary eyes. "If it weren't for the danger, I would simply drag this out as long as possible. I won't have her injured again if I can prevent it."

"And what of Christine, Erik?" Da'ud watched his friend carefully to see if her name caused as much pain as it used to.

"What of her?" Snarling, he turned to fix his molten amber gaze on the detective. "She took everything I had to give and threw it back at me. I believe my infatuation ended the day she tried to kill me."

"Then why do you insist on clinging to painful memories? Why do you still dream of her at night?" The detective knew he tread on dangerous ground but had to make Erik see reason. "I've seen the way you look at Alex; there's a longing there that I've not seen in a long time. But you can not contemplate even the possibility of a relationship while holding on to what once was and might have been." He flinched when the brandy glass was thrown against the stone fireplace but continued to press his point. "When Christine called, how did you feel? What did you say? You can't move on until you put her behind you."

"You don't understand," Erik snapped pacing the Library like a caged panther. "She was the first to see and to accept. How can I let that go?"

"Did she?" Da'ud hated being so cruel to one who'd suffered more than enough but he had to see reason. "Did she really accept? You, yourself, told me she preferred you to wear the latex mask when with her. Even during…intimate moments. Was that accepting or did you simply want to believe it so badly?"

"She didn't want to wake up next to a monster!"

"Mask or not, you are not a monster, Erik." The quiet voice from the doorway startled the two men into silence. Having said her piece, Alex continued back to her room. She had awakened when the argument started getting heated and realized she was actually feeling hungry. Not wanting to interrupt the men, she had slowly made her way to the kitchen for some water and crackers. On her way back, she'd heard Erik defending that woman for her cruelty while calling himself the monster. She simply couldn't let it pass but she wasn't about to hang around and get yelled at for being out of bed either.

"Erik," Da'ud's voice was nervous as he watched the fury grow in his friend's golden eyes. Standing awkwardly, he was prepared to tackle him if he tried to go to Alex's room. "Don't go in there and say something you'll regret later…" He tried to grab the furious man's arm but Erik shook him off without slowing down. "Erik! Damn stubborn fool." Slowly lowering himself back to the sofa, Da'ud put his head in his hands with a faint groan and waited for the fireworks to start.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so angry. Two days! For the last two days Alex had been in bed delirious with fever and on the very day it breaks, she thinks she can wander about the house. He'd swear she was trying to give him a heart attack. Erik stormed to her door and flung it open to crash against the wall. Alex, having crawled back into bed was waiting for just such a reaction and didn't even flinch.

"There is a small thing called knocking, you know." She was hungry, tired, and depressed and the last thing she wanted to do was cater to his self-pity. When he stalked into the room without saying a word, she started to get nervous. Had she finally pushed him too far? So focused was she on not cringing before his anger, that she hadn't realized he'd snatched a sheet from the bed. When she heard the first ripping sound, she knew she was in trouble.

"Wh…what are you doing?" Slowly, Alex began creeping to the other side of the bed when one elegant hand shot out to stop her. He pulled her back to the center of the bed and glared down at her fiercely. Though he remained silent, the order was obvious. "Erik? Erik, what are you…?" Her eyes widened when he pulled her pulled her arms above her head and quickly tied them to the headboard with the strip of ripped sheet. Futilely, Alex tugged at the bonds. "Erik! This isn't funny." He only arched one beautiful brow, the anger still churning beneath his calm façade. "Dammit, Erik, untie me this instant!" When a second strip of the sheet served as a gag, Alex glared daggers at him. Now that she was quiet, he felt it time to explain a few things she had obviously forgotten.

"Now, _ma petite_, I believe we have a few rules to review, yes?" His silken tone covered barely repressed fury and, for the first time since she'd asked him about the mask, Alex started to truly get scared. However, her anger was keeping the fear at bay for the moment. "Since you are obviously incapable of taking care of yourself, as evidenced by that little foray into the kitchen, it falls upon me as your host to ensure your safety and well being while in my home. As I have already warned you once of the consequences of rising before you are medically cleared to do so, I can only assume that you are unwilling to be sensible." The gag muffled the curses she was throwing at his head while she tugged on the ties around her wrist and if looks could kill, they would be attending his funeral soon. "I will return later to check on you and see if you have regained some semblance of rationality."

Alex watched in horror as he walked to the door. He wasn't really going to leave her like this, was he? As the door closed behind him, she could have cheerfully strangled him with what was left of the bed sheets.

**A/N:** Thank you all who've been reviewing so faithfully, you make me feel all warm and squishy inside. Either that or I need to start wearing Depends. Anyway, things are moving right along and, if you feel so inclined, check out my second story, Innocent Deceptions. Yeah, that was a shameless plug. So shoot me.


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters and Alex informs me that I don't own her either.

**Chapter 33**

**Oct. 23 – 8:00pm**

It had only been thirty minutes since Erik had tied her to the bed but it felt like hours. During that entire time, Alex had been slowly working the cloth from her mouth and plotting her revenge. Everything she'd come up with so far was either too lenient or too gruesome; perhaps she should just do whatever comes to her at the time. The moment she heard one of the cars leave the garage she started yelling for the detective. Her hands were already numb from being elevated for so long, her side throbbed, she was hungry, and she had to go to the bathroom. She could have wept when Da'ud knocked on the door.

"Get me out of here, Da'ud. That son of a bitch tied me to the fucking bed!" The detective tried the handle and discovered it to be locked. He relayed that information to Alex and told her he would see if his room key would work. It seemed like forever until he was back at the door and knew before he said anything that it hadn't worked. He begged for her patience once more and left for what seemed like an eternity. When he returned he started the painstaking task of picking the lock.

Da'ud's eyes widened in shock when he saw Alex tied to the headboard. He had thought … he didn't know what he thought but he certainly didn't believe Erik would do something like this. Hurriedly, he untied her arms and rubbed them to speed up the circulation. Her stomach gave a rumbly protest and she asked if he'd get her something while the feeling returned to her hands. Da'ud left the room as quickly as he was able and headed for the kitchen. With his hands needed for his crutches, he made a sandwich and grabbed a soda and a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Sealing the sandwich in a plastic bag, he placed everything into a sack and made his way back to Alex's room. He and Erik were definitely going to have words later.

Once the tingly pain had left her fingers, she checked her side to ensure she hadn't reopened the wound with the stretching and twisting. Satisfied that she hadn't snapped a stitch or made it bleed, Alex had just pulled her shirt down when Da'ud hobbled back into her room. She drained the water quickly, her mouth dry as a desert from the cotton of the sheets. After finishing off her sandwich and soda, she excused herself to take care of necessary business but asked the detective to wait as she wanted to talk to him about a certain masked friend of his.

Meanwhile, Erik was racing down the highway to a rendezvous with the past. He had arranged an early meeting as he didn't trust leaving Alexandra and Da'ud alone overnight. The _daroga_ had a soft heart and was sure to have freed the stubborn woman the moment Erik left the house. Perhaps he'd been a bit harsh with her but he refused to spend another two days watching her fight off her nightmares in a high fever. Each tormented cry, each plea, and each tear had ripped his heart in two. Nothing he had said or done had helped until he'd sang for her. Ruefully he shook his head; leave it to Alexandra to convince him to do what he swore never to do again. When he saw her on her feet so soon after waking, he couldn't believe his eyes. There had been shock, then anger, but underneath it all was the fear; the fear that she would relapse and be trapped in those terrible dreams once more. But he knew…once he returned home there'd be hell to pay.

The city park was normally off limits after dark to discourage vagrants and drug dealers but Da'ud had called in a request to patrol it only after midnight. The meeting should be over by then. Once he'd pulled into a spot under a street light, Erik checked to make sure he had all his weapons ready and accessible. He might have agreed to the meeting but that didn't mean he was going in blind. If he was instructed to disarm, he'd simply leave. If they tried to stop him, he'd take as many out as he could. He wasn't here to play games but get answers. Glancing at the clock, he slowly climbed out of the car and leaned against the door. It was show time.

The sleek baby blue corvette pulled in beside him. The windows were tinted but not so drastically as to prevent him from seeing the sole occupant. He wasn't naïve enough to believe the contact would come alone so that means someone was here when he arrived. Keeping his sedan between himself and the corvette, Erik stepped into the shadows and scoured the trees for potential sniper nests. When the corvette's driver emerged from the vehicle, he slowly approached while staying half in shadow.

"Good evening, Christine." He threw his voice so that it sounded directly behind the petite woman and watched as she spun around quickly, raising a hand to the level of her eyes. He nearly chuckled at that. _'Not as sure of ourselves as we thought, hmm, Christine?'_ Grinning wickedly, he decided to unnerve his former partner a bit more before showing himself. "I do hope you've come alone as promised." This time, the voice was over by the lamp post. "I wouldn't want to become…displeased at meeting such an old…friend." The last was whispered directly in her ear.

"Stop it with the games, Erik," she snapped, looking around trying to find where he was hiding. Stepping from the shadows, he soundlessly moved behind her.

"I thought you liked games, Christine," he chuckled awfully when she jumped and spun around once more to face him. "You played them so well five years ago. Which one are you playing now, I wonder? The partner, the lover, the traitor…the murderer?" He stared into her crystal blue eyes and saw nothing there of the girl he once knew and loved. The Christine he had loved was young and vibrant, full of laughter and joy; this Christine was a stranger with cold, calculating, dead eyes.

"Oh, Erik, I told you how it was. I couldn't escape!" Christine stepped forward and gripped his arm while pressing the entire length of her body against him. "They would have killed me. They would have killed you! I couldn't let them kill you, Erik." He was impressed with her acting skills but then again, he always had been. She had made him think she loved him after all. Slowly, he pried her fingers from his arm and stepped away.

"If ever you wish to give up this life, Hollywood would be forever grateful to have someone of your skill." His golden eyes flashed dangerously when she stepped towards him again. "I do not advise your grabbing my person again, _mademoiselle_, or I will not be responsible for my actions. I generally don't allow myself to be accosted by someone who tried to kill me." His voice was cold, clipped, and unrelenting; he would not be dragged into her games again. "Now, you wanted to meet me and I doubt it was to discuss old times so get to the point or I'm going home."

"Erik…" Christine's eyes filled with tears and she twisted a curl around her finger nervously. "I wanted to see you to know you were alright. I hated leaving you in that warehouse but I had no choice. Darling…" her voice dropped to a purr and she advanced close enough to run her hands up his chest. "You loved me once. How can you be so cruel?"

"Miss Daae," Erik growled and gripped her wrists tight, stopping their path up his body. "Do not speak to me of cruelty when you are its mistress. I loved you and you took that love and discarded it like piece of trash. Did you ever care for me at all or was it all a part of your assignment?" His hands tightened even more and he twisted slightly until she fell to her knees or risk broken wrists. "How did you like making love to the monster, Miss Daae? Did you include all the details in your reports of how I doted on you, gave you anything you could have ever wanted, even created a new mask that was practically undetectable so you wouldn't have to be seen with a freak?" He was shouting by the end, golden eyes full of molten fire and hatred. When she struggled to get her hands free, he merely tightened his grip more. "No, do not speak to me of love. You no longer have that right." Sneering down at the kneeling girl with disgust, he stepped back and mockingly gave her a bow. "I believe there is no more to discuss, Miss Daae. I have a job to do and if you get in my way, you will be dealt with like any other obstruction_. Au revoir_."

Erik returned to his car and pulled out of the parking lot with a shriek of tortured rubber on asphalt. He had only gotten twenty miles onto the highway when he pulled over on the side of the road, removed his mask, and cried over a love that never truly was.

**A/N:** Fairly short chapter and quick but I couldn't leave Alex tied up forever XD And yeah, that may not have been the best way for Erik to win the girl's affections.


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters and Alex informs me that I don't own her either.

**Chapter 34**

**Oct. 24 – 5:00am**

The sound of the garage door closing pulled Alex from a fitful sleep. Unfortunately, her nightmares had not fled with her fever; in fact, they seemed to have gotten worse, more graphic and painful. She had jerked awake several times already and, when she looked at the clock, gave up on getting any more rest. She could hear Erik climbing the stairs to his room and wondered how his meeting had gone. Though Da'ud hadn't come right out and admitted it, she'd deduced easily enough that he was meeting Christine. Alex wiped the tears from her cheeks angrily. She had always known she didn't have a snowball's chance in hell with the gorgeously sexy composer but it still hurt. Thinking of her nightmares, she again turned to possible ways to end things with minimum risk to the detective and Erik.

Rising slowly, she moved to the bathroom to shower while still mulling over the problem of quickly wrapping things up so she could leave and try to get over Erik. Alex emerged from the shower clean, energized, and determined to follow through on her plan. She pulled out underwear, a comfortable pair of low-rise jeans, and an old sweater and dressed quickly. She decided not to pack anything as she was going to the Lake House after dropping off the drive and she had plenty of clothing there. She gazed longingly at her sketchbook but backed away to grab her purse. It would be too painful to have reminders of what could never be.

She slipped out the door and listened for a moment but all was quiet. Erik must have gone straight to bed. As quietly as she could, Alex stepped into the Library to get the drive. Every sound made her jump and question her good sense at sneaking off like a thief. Then she'd close her eyes and the nightmares returned and with them came new determination to finish this and keep those she cared for out of danger. Stopping by the kitchen, she silently apologized to Erik as she lifted a set of keys from the rack. She could only hope he didn't charge her with grand theft when all was done. The jingling of the keys sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet house and she stopped to listen. Nothing. She gave a sigh of relief and nearly giggled at her nervousness. She finally made it into the garage and was just about to press the auto-unlock button on the key ring when a gloved hand covered her mouth while another snaked around her waist in a vice-like grip.

**xxxx**

She was going to be the death of him yet. Erik hadn't long been home when he realized he hadn't eaten lunch or dinner and soundlessly made his way down the stairs into the kitchen. When he heard Alex's shower, he briefly wondered why she was up so early but figured as she'd slept most of the last three days it was understandable. That was until he heard her in the Library. He was willing to let it pass that she was walking around _yet again_ while recovering from a gunshot wound until he heard the desk drawer close. She wasn't just getting a book, then. Erik had a crazy thought and dashed into the garage before she could see him. If he was wrong, he'd only lose time. If he was right, well…he may just kill her yet.

Unfortunately for Erik, he was correct. He was also beyond furious. After everything he'd done for the chit, she was going to sneak out in the middle of the night? Not bloody likely! Gazing down at the squirming woman in his arms, he wondered what it was going to take to make her take her injury seriously. It was times like this that made him wish he'd built a dungeon under the house.

"Cease your fidgeting, woman," he snapped as he tightened his grip around her waist. "I'm not sure how but it seems that somewhere there is still a breakdown in our communication. I believe you were told time and again to _stay off your feet_ while you recuperated and, though I knew the _daroga_ would release you the moment I was gone, you even bore the consequences of disobeying." Alex risked a glance and trembled at the fire she saw in his glowing, golden eyes. "So, I cannot even begin to comprehend why I find you sneaking around my home and about to steal one of my cars."

Releasing her only long enough to scoop her up and into his arms, Erik stalked back into the house and up the stairs. When Alex realized they were headed to his bedroom, she opened her mouth to protest. The glare she received from those amber eyes disintegrated the words in her throat. He entered the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them enveloping the room in darkness. Erik strode over to the bed and dropped her in the center with a growl.

"Move from that spot and you will regret it, Alexandra." Wisely, she froze and barely dared to breathe. "Where were you going?"

"What the hell is your problem, Devereaux?" She knew she was pushing her luck but she wasn't going to back down to his bullying tactics. "If I'm not mistaken, we are still in the US which means I am still free to go wherever I want! You are neither my father nor my husband so you really don't have a say in what I do or where I go." Truly pissed off, Alex tried to roll off the bed for a suitably stormy exit. It didn't quite work as planned.

"Do not push me, Alexandra; you will not like the results," like the ocean in a hurricane, his voice crashed and roiled with suppressed fury. Erik caught her before she could land a single foot on the floor. Crawling onto the bed, he loomed over her with knees straddling her thighs and her wrists held in a firm grip on either side of her head to prevent an escape. Alex thought his faintly glowing eyes were the most frightening things she'd ever seen … and the most beautiful. They seemed to pull her in and, when he repeated his question, the words whispered through her ears like thunder. "**Where?**"

"To…to the opera house," her voice was barely a whisper and she couldn't look away though her mind screamed for her to run. "This has to end. I can't stay here like this any longer." Erik drew back as if he'd been slapped.

"Is it really so distasteful for you here, Ms. Roberts?"

"No…not distasteful. Painful." Alex listened to her words with a growing sense of horror. Desperately she tried to break free from his gaze, afraid she would say something she had no intentions of revealing.

"**Painful, ma petite**?" Erik wasn't about to let that go without an explanation and so his voice oozed persuasion. Never taking his eyes from hers, he slowly lowered his head until she could feel his warm breath on her face. His lips fluttered softly over hers as he spoke and her body ached to close those last few millimeters of space.

"Yes," her breathing had accelerated in anticipation and she stretched up to close the gap between them only to be held firmly to the bed. She whimpered in frustration. "Erik…please." Fire flashed in his eyes as he watched her strain against his hold; my God, she had passion to rival his own.

"**Answer me, **_**ma petite chère**_**, answer and you shall be rewarded**." Erik let his fingers glide lightly along her cheek and over her lips. His brain misfired when all the blood rushed to his groin at the feel of her soft tongue darting out for a taste and he almost lost his hold on her will.

"It's…it's torture to want what you know you cannot have." Her skin was on fire and the only thing that could quench the flames was his touch.

"Alexandra, I…"

"ERIK!" The awkwardly hurried step of the detective followed the shout as he made his way to pound frantically at the bedroom door. "Erik! She's gone! Alex is gone!" He felt his lips twitch slightly. At any other time, it would be vastly amusing. At the moment, however, he was more than a bit displeased. With a growl of impatience, he rolled off the bed and approached the door.

"_Daroga_! I am quite proud of the sturdiness of my home but please refrain from destroying my door." He jerked it open before the detective could subject them to more pounding and stepped aside with a gesture towards the bed. "As you can see, Alexandra is quite safe." To Erik's annoyance, Da'ud limped in quickly and sat next to her on the bed.

**A/N:** I realize that Alex seems uncommonly stubborn but I figure she'd have to have one helluva stubborn streak to put up with Erik XD Thanks again for all the kind reviews!


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters and Alex informs me that I don't own her either.

**Chapter 35**

**Oct. 24 – 8:30am**

Sitting at the foot of her bed and staring at the door, Alex could appreciate the irony. After a thorough examination of her injury, Erik had conceded to allowing her to walk on her own throughout the house as long as she promised to rest if she began to get tired and not to steal any of his vehicles. At that particular moment, she would have promised to grow butterfly wings and flutter away if that's what it took to escape his bedroom and her embarrassment. So why was it that, now that she could leave the room whenever she wanted, she sat staring at the door as if they were the gates of hell? The answer, as always, was Erik.

Rising to pace the small room, she blushed furiously at what he'd forced her to confess to him earlier that morning. Good God, what he must think of her! She'd known him less than two weeks and she was ready to crawl into bed with him. A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered his body holding hers to the bed, his lips so close and yet still out of reach. When Da'ud had pounded on the door thinking she was gone, she was torn between wanting to kill him and getting on her knees to thank him. Alex could feel Erik's piercing eyes follow her as she left the room with the detective. He would corner her later for explanations, she knew, and so she was hiding in her room after working so hard to be allowed out of it.

"Alexandra," Alex jumped at the soft knock and velvety voice that called her name. "You cannot stay in there all day, _ma petite_. Breakfast is ready and we need to talk."

"I'm not hungry," she glared at her stomach's rumble which declared her a liar and hoped Erik hadn't heard.

"Nonsense. You've eaten very little over the last three days so I know that to be untrue. Shall I come in and fetch you?" Annoyance had filtered into his lovely voice and Alex knew she'd been beaten. Not even noon and she was already tired of fighting with the infuriating man.

"Very well, I'll be right there."

"Excellent."

Throwing off the sweater for a more comfortable t-shirt, she quickly ran a brush through her short auburn hair. She'd decided to let it grow long again but it was at that in-between stage that can tempt a person to simply shave and get a wig. Alex took a deep breath to calm her nerves and opened the door to join the men at the table.

**xxxx**

He'd been tempted to wait outside Alex's room until she emerged but he wasn't up to another lecture from Da'ud. Once he'd escorted her down the stairs to her room, the detective had practically shoved Erik into the Library. After a fifteen minute long tirade about tying Alex to her bed with no way to get free, not to mention locking her door – for the love of Allah, Erik, there could have been a fire! – the detective had just started picking him apart for having her in his bedroom when the fax machine started printing. They'd gotten lucky with Alex's sketch.

Both men rose when she entered and waited for her to be seated to resume their breakfast. As they ate, they kept the conversation light. Erik had heard from the agent who was watching over Lizzie and all was quiet at the Lake House. Alex was glad her friend was safe though she wished she could see her. He also informed them of the new security personnel and their overlapping patrols. If anyone managed to reach the house, it would be a miracle. He and Da'ud discussed the trustworthiness of the new guards but he preferred to take that risk over losing a man due to errors made while exhausted. Once everyone was done, the detective retreated to the Library while Erik and Alex washed up the few dishes.

"We will have to talk about it sometime, _ma petite_." Erik's soft murmur sent a delicious chill down her spine but she kept her eyes on the soapy plate in her hand.

"No, we won't. There's nothing to discuss." Alex's voice was equally soft but strained. She really didn't want to deal with this right now.

"Later, Alexandra. You cannot avoid me forever." His fingers trailed along the back of her neck as he left the kitchen. She wondered if anyone would notice if she stocked up the bedroom and just refused to come out. Contemplating the logistics of such a thing, Alex joined the men in the Library.

"Let's get started," Erik motioned to the sofa beside the detective and waited for her to sit before continuing. "We've finally got a lead on the mysterious Raoul de Chagny. Your sketch, Alexandra, proved most useful as the Agency was able to scan it into a facial recognition program. They've sent us several choices since the computer program isn't perfect. I'll let you and Da'ud make the final pick." Once they'd handed him the pictures back with Raoul's on top, Erik glanced at it and pulled the appropriate background that accompanied it. Scanning it quickly, he passed it to them with a frown. "As you can see, the background is quite vague listing missionary work and other such nonsense. It's either a complete fabrication or the man is a saint though it's more likely that the truth lies somewhere in between.

"It has also been confirmed that Christine Daae is involved in the murders of both your parents and your brother," Alex brought her eyes to his quickly but he had a firm hold on his emotions. "However, we are still uncertain as to how many are in the group nor do we know with a certainty who is picking up the tab. That's where Mr. de Chagny will come into play. Alexandra, we are going to need your help on this one."

"Of course, Erik, anything. I've been pretty useless so far."

"Hush, no you haven't." He pinned her to her seat with the ferocity in his gaze and Alex bit back the retort that had already formed on her lips. "What it will require of you, however, is some deceit on your part. We need for you to strike up a relationship with de Chagny, invite him over to celebrate your return to good health."

"What exactly has he been told was wrong with me?" Alex hated to interrupt but needed this information before she forgot to ask once the discussion progressed. "I truly doubt he was told that I was shot."

"Ah, good question," it was Da'ud's turn to interject. "The last time he sent a text you were still feverish and unconscious so we told him it was a bad case of the flu; that way you can discuss the fever as well as feeling weak and achy. Will that do, Alex?" At her nod, Erik resumed control of the conversation.

"Good. We'll discuss various options later though I'd like to keep it nonviolent as long as possible. You also mentioned an audio recording of the day your parents were killed? I'd like to get that to the Agency for voice analysis as soon as possible. Where is it hidden?"

"It's at the Lake House. Lizzie knows most of my hiding spots as we spent many summers up there as kids. I can tell her where to find it if you want the agent to take control of it."

"Very well, I'll send word to her escort but I can't allow you to talk long. Not many know where either house is located and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Of course, I understand."

"Tonight I'm going to the opera house to familiarize myself with the layout. I should return well before dawn but regardless of the time, I expect _both _of you to still be here when I arrive." He glared pointedly at Alex who had the grace to blush. Clearing space on the large desk, Erik unrolled the blueprints and Da'ud moved to examine them with him. Alex, on the other hand, was terrible with maps and didn't feel any more confident with blueprints. Grabbing the laptap, she searched again for the picture she'd seen of Erik and Christine. Something was bugging her about that picture.

While the two men argued over the best route into the opera house, Alex had saved quite a few pictures from the newspapers around the same date. Zooming in as close as possible without terrible pixilation, she felt like she was playing a much more important game of Where's Waldo?. Printing each one separately, she grabbed a pencil on her way back to the sofa without realizing it was the one Erik had been holding. She circled the same face in each picture. She didn't know if the photographs were too old to be of any help but she didn't want to just sit and do nothing.

"What have you found, Alexandra?" It shouldn't have surprised her that he'd been watching her but it still did.

"I'm not sure." She passed Erik the stack of print outs. "I've added the dates at the bottom. All of these pictures were printed in the local newspapers and all of them have one unnamed person in common."

"de Chagny."

"Right. While once or even twice might be a coincidence, that wouldn't account for his being present in every single picture of you and Christine. Though these were taken years ago, the fact that they both showed up now seems more than a bit suspicious. Also, if you cross-reference the dates with the provided biography, you can see that they conflict greatly. This picture," Alex lightly tapped a photo of Erik and Christine arriving at a charity ball in London, England, "was taken just over five years ago in August. According to his biography, Raoul should have been doing missionary work in the Ukraine and yet there he stands just inside the door."

"Excellent work, _ma petite_." She told herself that she'd be just as thrilled if anyone else had complimented her on a job well done but knew it was a lie. With only the faintest hint of a blush to betray the warmth that ran down her spine, she powered down the laptop and grabbed a random book from the shelves. It could be about the mating rituals of lemurs and she'd still read it in order to prevent throwing him onto the desk and thanking him "properly" for his compliment. She was quite relieved to see Austen's Persuasion on the front cover. It didn't take long for her to tune out the blueprint discussion and get lost in the trials and tribulations of Miss Anne Elliot and Captain Frederick Wentworth.

**A/N:** Not sure how pleased I am with this chapter. Seems a bit like fluffy filler but for some reason I felt the need to keep it. Ah well.


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 36**

**Oct. 24 – 12:30pm**

By the time Miss Elliot and Captain Wentworth had sailed off into their happily ever after, Erik had left and the detective was flipping through the newspaper. Alex stood and stretched, cramped from sitting in one place so long, and replaced the book on the shelf. She was trying to decide between Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice when her name was called. Plucking the tale of the Misses Bennett from the shelf, she returned to the sofa with a questioning smile for Da'ud.

"Alex, I know this is none of my business but, as his good friend, possibly his only friend, how do you feel about Erik?" Alex stared at him for a moment in shock wondering where that question came from. For his part, the detective looked both embarrassed and uncomfortable about asking. Sensing only concern for his friend in his inquiry, she decided to be completely honest with him.

"To be truthful, Da'ud. I don't know," Glancing at the doorway, she nevertheless kept her voice low. "He…fascinates me, I suppose, and has this magnetism that draws me like a moth to a flame. I know it'll hurt but I can't help but be drawn in." With a sigh, Alex leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "He can be so sure of himself one moment and terribly vulnerable the next, violent and then gentle; he's gorgeous, talented, and insanely sexy and so totally beyond my reach."

"But what of the mask and what lies beneath?" The detective was watching her closely, hope rising.

"What of it?" Alex shrugged, confused. "It's what he looks like not who he is. Wait here…I think I have something that might explain it better." She rose and hurried to her room for her sketch pad, flipping it to the first picture she'd drawn of Erik without his mask. When she returned to the Library, she passed the pad to Da'ud. "There are several sketches in the book but that is the one I'm most pleased with. Tell me, what do you first notice about the picture?"

"You mean beyond your astounding talent? The eyes. They draw you in and hold your attention."

"Exactly. As in the sketch, it's not that I don't see the scars on his face; it's just that they are overshadowed by his beautiful eyes." She watched the detective look at the other sketches in the book before he returned it to her.

"Why do you think he's, what was it you said, 'beyond your reach'?"

"Da'ud," she bit her lip to stifle the sob that threatened, "as I've said, he's rich and talented and gorgeous and I'm…well, not any of those. Besides, he loves another and, while I know she's not dead, it's the same theory. One can never compete with an ideal."

"You give yourself far too little credit, my dear, and are overlooking the important thing. Erik doesn't need a mirror of himself; he needs someone who can accept him as he is, temper, scars, and all."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean that someone is me nor does it address the fact that…" Eyes as big as saucers, Alex nearly bit the tip of her tongue off in her rush to stop talking. There was Erik, relaxing against the door frame, his golden eyes boring directly into her soul.

He watched the color race across her cheeks and wondered what she and Da'ud were discussing that had her so embarrassed. When he heard voices coming from the Library, he'd decided to stop and see if anyone else wanted lunch. If not, he'd make something quick and return to his bedroom to rest. But now, the guilty look on the detective's face and the utter mortification on Alexandra's had him extremely curious. What were they discussing?

"I thought you were resting, old friend." Da'ud finally managed to choke out a greeting which did absolutely nothing to curb his rising curiosity.

"I was on the way to make myself some lunch and, since I heard the two of you, wanted to know if either of you wished to join me?"

The detective had finally masked his expression into one of calm politeness; Alex, on the other hand, looked as if the prospect of food would make her violently ill. His eyes never left her face as he slowly crossed the room to sit beside her on the sofa. Even without touching her, he could feel her trembling and see her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. Taking one of her hands in his, Erik eased her fingers open and caressed her palm with his fingers. When she started to jump up, he tightened his hold and held her to the sofa.

"Not so fast, _ma petite_." His soft murmur slid across her skin like a lover's touch. "You seem upset and flushed. You are not falling ill again, are you?" Like a drowning man, Alex clung to the excuse as if it were a life preserver.

"Actually, I was feeling a bit out of sorts so I think I'll just take my book to my room and lay down for a while because I don't want to get any worse and cause more problems especially when I need to…" Taking advantage of his distraction caused by her babbling she jumped up and practically ran to her room. Erik stared after her in confusion as her door closed behind her.

**xxxx**

"What was that all about, _Daroga_?"

"I'm sure I have no idea, Erik." Da'ud carefully kept his face and voice neutral. Though he was ready to smack the both of them, he knew there was really little he could do to bring his two friends together.

"And I'm equally certain that you do." Erik finally pulled his eyes from the doorway to focus them on the detective. "What were you discussing that upset her so?"

"Nothing of consequence. Shall we eat?"

"No." The golden eyes drifted back to where Alex had disappeared and a hint of steel crept into his voice. "I want to know what you said to upset her."

"Truthfully? Nothing. What either of us said wasn't what upset her, Erik, but I'm not at liberty to say anything further." At the masked man's nod, the detective fell silent watching his friend. There was a hurricane of emotion swirling in those amber orbs. After long minutes, Da'ud decided to take a chance. "Do you love her, Erik?" The question was quiet yet hung in the air like a living thing.

"I don't know, _Daroga_." Dragging his eyes from the doorway, he ran a hand through his hair and stood to pace. "It was so different with Christine. She was so beautiful I'd placed her on a pedestal and worshiped the goddess that deigned to love a monster. I would have pulled the moon from the sky if that had been her wish. But Alexandra…she fascinates me, Da'ud. She's feisty and argumentative and doesn't back down from my temper which annoys and enthralls me equally; yet she's so vulnerable and scared that all I want to do is hold and protect her from all the evils of the world. And unlike Christine, who claimed she didn't mind my face and yet requested I keep the mask on, Alexandra looks at me no differently, masked or not."

"Listen to yourself, old friend. Listen to what drew you to each woman. One lured you with beauty, but the other, lovely though she is, lured you with her character." Having said all he felt he should, Da'ud left the brooding man in the Library.

Picking up the abandoned sketch pad, Erik returned to the sofa and studied every picture while thinking of the detective's last words. He had been drawn to Christine for her ethereal beauty; she had been young, radiant, and vibrantly alive. But the more he thought of her, the more he realized that had been her only attraction. They had nothing in common and, though she would attend with him, she loathed the theater in general and opera in particular. Alexandra, on the other hand, was full of fire and passion that rivaled his own; she not only listened to his music, she heard what he was trying to convey. She was compassionate and kind and oh so very beautiful in his eyes. _Did_ he love her? He couldn't be sure while they were involved with these murderers but hoped she would give him a chance to find out when it was over.

**xxxx**

Stretched across her bed, Alex concentrated on the novel in hopes of shutting off her brain for a while. She found the story to be somewhat similar to the situation between her and Erik. Like Miss Elizabeth Bennett, she was the one full of pride and trying to hide her feelings out of fear of being hurt while Erik was the one hiding behind his prejudice. But unlike the very upright Mr. Darcy, Erik was prejudiced against himself. She could only hope that, like Austen's two protagonists, she and Erik would find a way to reach each other.

xoxoxo

**A/N:** Once more thank you all for your wonderful reviews. Poor Da'ud, I think he's about ready to lock the two of them in a room until they either emerge as a couple or kill each other XD


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 37**

**Oct. 25 – 1:00am**

There was no movement outside the old opera house so either there were no guards, they were better than he thought, or they were inside. Erik was fairly certain it was the latter. Heading towards November, the autumn chill was slowly evolving into winter cold forcing most people into the welcoming warmth of central heat. His target was a ground level window that led into the basement storage rooms. From there, he could use the actor/employee tunnels to get an idea of enemy positions. Sticking to the shadows, he carefully crossed the distance from his position to flatten against the wall. He waited and listened for evidence he'd been seen or heard but relaxed slightly when there was no reaction.

Knowing the window was likely rusted shut from years of disuse, Erik oiled up the screws that held the frame and attached a suction to the glass. As he removed the screws, he wrapped the cord from the suction to his wrist so the glass couldn't fall through. Removing the window frame and glass, he shined a light to ensure he'd not land on debris and slipped through the opening. The many layers of dust revealed the room's lack of use though it also revealed his presence. There was nothing to be done about it, however, so he could only hope no one decided to check the floor for footprints.

He dripped some oil on the door's hinges and waited until it eased into the cracks. While normally he preferred to just remove the door, in this situation that would be more noticeable than a random squeak. Erik carefully opened the door just enough to slip through and hurried to the small door that led to the hidden area under the stage floor. Mainly used for productions requiring trap doors, from the looks of it this particular section was used for storage, He was making his way towards the orchestra pit when he heard talking above him. Freezing in place, he listened closely to pinpoint their location then silently moved to stand just underneath them. Erik pulled a small dish-shaped object from one of the many pockets and attached it to the ceiling. With some minor adjusting, the muffled conversation came through the earpiece as clear as if he'd been standing beside them.

"How much longer we gonna stay here, Morrison? You'd think they could at least provide a bit of heat in this creepy old dump."

"Quit yer bitchin', Jimmy. As much money as that sweet young thing is paying us to just sit in this 'creepy old dump' I think we can deal with wearin' a few extra layers."

"What's she want with this place anyhow? I swear it's haunted from all the creakin' and groanin' I hear."

"Haunted? You really need to stop listenin' to those bums we runned outta here, Jimmy-boy."

A wicked grin crossed Erik's face as he retrieved the listening device and put it away. Haunted, hmm? This could be fun. Moving as quickly as stealth would allow, he made his way to the orchestra pit and eased the door open. The only sounds were Jimmy and Morrison arguing over possible poltergeists and their volume was rising quickly. Throwing his voice into the flies, he spoke gruffly while complaining of the many set pieces that had to be raised and lowered for the new opera. As the 'ghostly voice' dwindled into nothingness, the two men had also fallen silent and were looking around nervously. This time, he shifted his voice to the orchestra pit though it was taking a chance.

"Will four bars be sufficient, _mademoiselle_? From the top of the aria then."

"Who's there? Come on out and we might just let you walk away from this." Morrison's voice echoed throughout the empty building and revealed its excellent acoustics. It was all Erik could do not to laugh. Mimicking the stern voice of the ballet mistress at his own opera house, his next words came from just off stage behind the curtain.

"And you…you were a disgrace! Such _ronds de jambe_! Such _temps de cuisse_! Here we rehearse. Now!" As the last word thundered out, the two guards drew their weapons and spun around in a circle trying to find the origins of the ghostly voices. Glancing up, Erik grinned and threw the next line to the chandelier.

"Did I not instruct that box five was to be kept EMPTY!" At the booming sound of the opera's 'ghost', the guards scrambled from the stage and started running towards the lobby. Unable to stifle his amusement any longer, Erik shifted the direction of his voice several times so it sounded like his laughter was coming from every angle. Now he could explore without interruption.

There was little to be found in the stage area. Broken sets, curtains with holes gnawed into them by rodents, liquor bottles, and discarded drug paraphernalia were scattered throughout the seating area and backstage. Methodically, Erik searched each dressing room and storage closet. He wasn't quite certain what he was looking for but knew he'd know when he found it. He knew he'd hit the jackpot when he reached the dressing room at the end of the hall. It boasted a door and lock that was far too new to be part of the original architecture. Picking the lock easily, Erik entered what was once the dressing room of the resident diva. Now, the remnants of the bed were stacked neatly in a corner out of the way, there was a new desk, chair, and lamp, and the vanity had been cleaned thoroughly and restored to its original splendour. The vanity was filled with prepaid "throw-away" cellphones which are virtually untraceable, a map of the Roberts' apartment complex and their unit, and photograph of Samuel and his sister taken while they were eating lunch at an outdoor cafe. Unfolding a bag he kept in his pocket, Erik emptied the drawer's contents into it except the photo, which he placed in his pocket. Regardless of who had taken it, Alexandra might want the picture of her and her brother.

Circling the room, he checked the large cheval mirror that was propped against the wall. Cracked and missing several shards of glass, the hooks in the corners revealed that it was once hanging on the wall. Erik found the corresponding hooks and noticed it had been recently plastered behind where the mirror once hung. More of the cast and crew tunnels? Perhaps, but why board it up and not the rest? Frowning, he turned his attention to the desk. The side drawers held nothing of interest; they contained menus from the restaurants in the area, especially those that delivered, a few adult magazines, and a hidden bottle of cheap whiskey. They contained no hidden compartments and he moved on to the central drawer.

Locked. Erik cursed softly as he worked to gain entry. All of these locked doors were eating up time he didn't have to spare. He breathed a sigh of relief at the metallic click that signaled the lock's release. When he pulled the drawer open, he almost dropped it as it was far too short for the depth of the desk. Shining a small light into the cavity, Erik pried out a metal box that contained several interesting looking documents written using the Cyrillic alphabet, an SD chip, and notebook. He dropped the chip into a small plastic container and slipped it into his pocket before stuffing the rest into the bag with the phones and maps. Returning the box and then the drawer, Erik relocked both the desk and the dressing room before slipping back into the crew tunnels and out of the building.

**Oct. 25 – 7:00am**

The music that poured from the piano was joyful and manic and unlike anything she'd ever heard before. Refreshing her coffee and pouring a second cup for the composer, Alex wandered down the hall to the Music Room. Balancing the two mugs, she slipped inside as quietly as she could and moved to the chaise to watch the maestro. Erik's music usually matched his moods so whatever happened last night while he was at the opera house must have gone well. As she watched his body sway with the melody and saw the smile that teased the corners of his lips, Alex could think of only one reason why he'd be so happy: Christine must have been there. Dammit. She'd hoped he would see how much better his life was without the lying bitch. She couldn't help the tears that came to her eyes at the thought of him returning to someone who'd hurt him so very badly and deserved him so little. Setting his coffee on an end table, she stood to leave but was stopped by a warm hand on her arm.

"Alexandra?" Of course he had to see the tears that had escaped to roll down her cheeks. "What's wrong, _ma petite_?"

"Nothing, just being silly and sentimental." Alex's smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she shrugged off his concern. "Did you have a productive night?"

"Oh, yes," Erik's grin was heartbreaking. "I've been waiting for you to wake so I could tell you."

"I…I think I already know, Erik," she slipped her arm from his hand and moved to the door. She couldn't hear this! "I'm very happy for you." She didn't get far before he'd spun her around to face him, confusion dimming some of the happiness on his face.

"Happy for me? What is it that you think happened, Alexandra?"

"Well…I just thought…since you'd gone there…and considering how happy you are…that…" As her voice trailed off, Erik arched a single questioning brow. "…that you'd met and patched things up with Christine." The last came out as a rush as she stared, transfixed, at a button on his shirt. When he started laughing, she saw it as confirmation and tried once more to leave the room.

"Oh, no, _ma petite chère_, you're not going to run away from this discussion." He firmly guided her back to the chaise and sat, pulling her down to sit close beside him. "This time, you're going to stay long enough for us to talk."

Alex sat stiffly beside him and stared into her coffee. She would rather run naked through a bed of stinging nettles than listen to Erik extol the beauty and virtue of Christine Daae. The very thought of him letting that woman back into his life turned her stomach and made her want to do murder. So heavily did she concentrate on keeping her emotions and murderous thoughts under control that she didn't hear him begin with immediately dismissing her concerns and assuring her that Christine no longer held any sway over his heart. As she considered and discarded various medieval torture techniques, she was drawn from her musings by a gentle hand upon her chin. Erik tilted her face so he could catch both her eyes and her attention. Once he was satisfied that she was listening he again explained that, no matter his feelings in the past, Christine had no hold on him now. He described his purpose for the trip to the opera house and what he'd found. With a grin, he related how he'd overheard the guards discussing the apparition who was supposed to haunt the abandoned building. Catching the spark of mischief in his eyes, Alex eagerly asked him what he'd done. Erik smiled wickedly before launching into the tale of his 'haunting' the old opera house and the subsequent reactions of the guards. He even reproduced the voices throwing them around the room to give her a taste of what the two men had gone through. By the time his story had ended, Alex was leaning against his side laughing so hard he had to take her coffee or risk wearing it in his lap.

Still giggling, she looked up at him and instantly got lost in the turbulent emotions reflected in his warm, golden eyes. As her laughter faded and her breath caught in her throat, Erik lowered his head and gently teased her lips with his. Closing her eyes, she basked in his tender kisses until she could stand it no longer. Raising a shaky hand to run her fingers through his soft hair, Alex pressed closer to him as her tongue darted out to seek entrance into his mouth. Happily obliging, Erik deepened the kiss while pulling her onto his lap. Several kisses later, he pulled his lips from hers and hugged her close to his chest resting his chin in her hair. Not wanting to ruin the moment, Alex quieted her fears and snuggled closer to him. She knew now how she felt about this handsome enigmatic man and that it would break her completely when she had to leave him.

**A/N:** Unfortunately, we're nearing the end of this story and I want to thank everyone again for their kind reviews. Alex and Erik would thank you too but, as you can see, they're kinda busy XD


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters. I do, however, warn that this chapter most definitely earns it's M rating :D

**Chapter 38**

**Oct. 25 – 8:00pm**

Throwing caution to the wind, Alex reveled in Erik's attentions. After dinner, they returned to the Music Room where he played one of the songs from his new opera, _Don Juan Triumphant_. The song was suggestive and enchanting and stirred all the feelings she'd been trying to suppress. Reading through the words, she felt her heart pound in her chest. This was going to be pure seduction on stage!

"Goodness, Erik! You're going to have to give out fans or risk your audience members bursting into flames." Alex handed the words back to him with a chuckle.

"Oh really?" Erik's reply was accompanied by a slow, sensual smile which had her blushing to the roots of her hair. "Perhaps you'd like a private preview?" Alex nodded eagerly having only heard him once and then only as she was recovering from the terrible fever.

From the first angelic note that poured from his golden throat, she was captivated. Alex closed her eyes and the song became a physical thing caressing and luring her into its seductive embrace. She didn't notice when Erik rose from the piano until he moved to stand behind her and run his hands lightly from her shoulders to her hands, lifting them up until she wrapped them around his neck. Back down her arms his talented fingers traveled and then further down her sides, barely brushing against the swell of her breasts. Alex arched her back like a cat and whimpered at his teasing touch. By the time the song was over, she was positively on fire with wanting him. Only when his voice faded away did Erik allow her to turn in his arms. Pulling his head down to hers urgently, Alex kissed him with all the passion and fire he'd stirred in her with his song. Erik pulled away and held out his hand; his amber eyes were molten orbs of desire that burned into hers with a question. Was she ready to pass the point of no return? Without hesitation, she laid her hand in his and quietly followed him up the stairs and into his bedroom.

Her heart pounded nervously when the door clicked shut behind them, bathing them in muted light. Watching her carefully, Erik led her to the large four poster bed draped in black and crimson sheer canopies. His eyes never left hers as he slowly lifted her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Alex blushed faintly but fought her shy self-consciousness. His fingers lightly drifted across her skin, dipping teasingly in the valley between her breasts before continuing down to the waist band of her jeans. Erik smiled wickedly as he brought his hands lower, over the denim that covered her ass, and pulled her flush against his body. Alex's moan at the hard evidence of his arousal made his blood boil and he nudged her hair aside to place a line of soft kisses along her neck and shoulder.

Desperate to touch him, Alex tore at the buttons on his shirt whimpering softly when her hands finally made contact with his warm, muscled chest. She kicked off her shoes as she pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Planting soft kisses along his chest, she tentatively licked one of his nipples. Erik hissed at the sensation and, encouraged, she nibbled and suckled it before moving to lavish her attention on the other. With a growl, her bra was quickly disposed of before he knelt to swiftly pull her jeans her body. Planting a teasing kiss on the inside of her thigh, his fingers played along the band of her panties until she was begging him to remove them. Alex groaned in frustration when he kissed his way slowly up her body to capture one rock hard nipple with his lips. Rational thought flew out the window and all she knew was the feel of his mouth on her skin.

"Are you certain of this, _ma petite chère_?" His breath lazily drifted across the wet peak and she grasped his shoulders tightly to keep from collapsing at his feet. Licking his way to her other breast, Erik swirled his tongue around the hardened nipple as his fingers rolled and pinched the abandoned sensitive tip.

"Yes, God, Erik, yes." Her hands fumbled with his belt, eager to have nothing between them.

**xxxx**

Scooping her into his arms, he placed her in the center of the bed and marveled at this passionate young woman who was eager to be his. Quickly, he stripped off the rest of his clothing and crawled in bed beside her. Pulling her back against his chest, his hands slowly began exploring beneath the lacy panties that she still wore. Was there anything more beautiful than the woman he held in his arms? Any sound as sweet as her passionate cries?

"Alexandra," he breathed her name like a prayer to a heathen goddess as he slid the bit of lace down her legs. "Are you sure? I won't be able to stop, _ma chère_."

Alex knew he'd asked her a question but what did questions matter when his lips were drifting lazily across her skin. How could she think of anything but his long, skillful fingers caressing their way down her body to tease the soft curls between her thighs and the treasure it hid? With a soft moan, Alex arched her back to rub against the hard shaft that lay nestled between the soft crease of her buttocks. Everywhere he touched was on fire; but instead of fearing the burn, Alex embraced and fanned the flames.

"What do you want, _ma petite_?" His voice slid across her skin like the satin sheets upon which they lay. Erik planted small kisses and bites along her neck to her ear then back to her shoulder, covering every inch in between.

"You!" Alex gasped as his fingers lightly caressed the soft folds hidden beneath the downy curls. Desperate for more, she grabbed his hand in hers and thrust her hips forward but he was much stronger. Erik chuckled softly against her neck as he kept his talented musician's fingers hovering just beyond the ache between her legs. Digging her nails into his wrist, she growled, "Dammit…Erik, I need you. I want you, only you."

Rolling her beneath him, he grinned wickedly when she whimpered in anticipation. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his head to capture one eager nipple between his lips as his fingers manipulated the other. Alex arched to press closer to him and raked her fingers up his back. As he teased and licked the hard peak, he watched her in awed amazement. She was so open, so passionate, so _eager_ to belong to him. He could feel his self-control start to slip. He nipped her breast gently when she frantically arched her hips in search of fulfillment.

"Not yet, _ma chère_." His angelic voice was hoarse with his very earthly desire. "Patience."

Alex nearly screamed in wanton frustration and told him what he could do with his patience. Chuckling softly, Erik captured her lips in a soul-stealing kiss as his hands slowly glided down her body to grab her hips. Raising his head only enough to gaze into her pale green eyes, he held her still as he slowly sank deep inside her. Alex wrapped her fingers around his arms and whispered his name on a shaky breath. Feeling her warm, wet tunnel surround his hard shaft ripped a groan of pure pleasure from his throat. _God, she was incredible!_ Taking a few deep breaths while remaining still, he struggled to hold onto his self-control. His body was screaming to take her hard and fast but his mind and his…heart?...was begging him to go slow, draw out her pleasure. Their pleasure. Alex's hands traveled over his chest, tracing every scar and memorizing every muscled curve. When her hands drifted lower to where their bodies were joined, Erik shuddered and began to move slowly inside her.

Caught in the glow of her eyes, Erik was filled with a sense of rightness and completion, like this was where he belonged. This was where he'd always belonged. He'd had lovers, he wasn't a monk after all; but none, not even Christine, had managed to touch his very soul when they touched his body. As he watched her expressive eyes, he knew she felt the same deep connection. Was it love? He had vowed never again would he open himself up to that pain but he couldn't deny that she spoke to something hidden inside him. Something he thought was long dead.

**xxxx**

Alex was lost in the raging storm of emotions she could see in Erik's molten gaze. She both wished and feared knowing what was going on behind his amber eyes. Giving him plenty of time to realize what she was doing, she eased the mask from his face and threw it to the floor. As their bodies danced to love's duet, her fingers explored every inch of his beloved face. Tears pooled in his eyes as she lovingly traced every scar, every remaining disfigured piece of flesh. When they spilled over to trickle down his cheeks, Alex pulled his face to hers to kiss each one away. Overcome, Erik pulled her close and buried his face in the soft curve of her neck. When they each found release, they felt the scars and wounds on their hearts start to heal.

"_Tu est incroyable, ma petite chère_," Erik whispered softly in awe as he raised up to drink in her quiet beauty. He tenderly caressed her face, brushing her hair from her brow. "_Vous renseigner mon coeur avec joie_."

"Erik…" Not understanding but loving the beautiful flow of the French words, Alex leaned forward for a soft kiss. "Erik, I…"

"Shhh…" pulling the sheets over them, he gathered her in his arms. "Tonight, let me hold you in my arms; tomorrow we shall talk, _ma chère_." Relaxing in the warmth and security of his embrace, Alex easily fell asleep and dreamed of waking in his arms.

* * *

**A/N:** According to my ancient high school French lessons and the online translators, the two phrases Erik says are:

You are incredible, my little love.

You fill my heart with joy.


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 39**

**Oct. 26 – 4:00am**

The perimeter alarms blasted through the still morning air jarring the occupants of the house from a contented slumber. Erik, recognizing the potential danger behind the sound, jumped from the bed and ordered Alex to dress. Pulling on his black bodysuit, he looped the Punjab lasso around a spring-release on his belt and strapped his Beretta under his arm. Sliding a couple of knives into their sheaths, he kissed Alex fiercely, bade her to remain in the room until he returned, and then disappeared into the pre-dawn darkness. Unnerved by his hasty departure, it took her sleep-fogged brain a minute or two to comprehend his words. Once she had, however, Alex threw on her bra and panties and, after only a second of hesitation, draped Erik's shirt over her shoulders and buttoned the front. She was reaching for her jeans when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She watched in horror as the door swung open and she stared down the barrel of a gun and into the mockingly cruel eyes of Christine Daae.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here: Erik's latest fling." Christine smirked as she looked Alex up and down. "I suppose you were all that was available. He still loves _**me**_, you know. You'll never be more to him than a casual fuck."

"Perhaps." Alex clenched her hands so tight she could feel her nails biting into her palms. "But at least I wouldn't slink off to screw in a public bathroom like a common whore." Christine's slap raised a hand shaped welt on her cheek and cut her lip but Alex simply straightened and smiled. "He will never be yours again even if he never becomes mine. I can accept that, can you?" With a snarl of fury, Christine balled up her fist, stepped forward, and aimed for the partially healed gunshot wound. The searing pain caused Alex to cry out before tumbling into blessed darkness.

Alex awoke to darkness and pain. And motion. Was she being carried? Was she in a vehicle? Erik! What had happened to Erik? She struggled against the agonizing ache in her side and the black spots before her eyes; she had to make sure Erik was alright. When she groaned and attempted to sit up, someone nearby spoke quickly to another in an unknown language. Then there was a sharp pain to the back of her head and all was darkness again.

With consciousness came the pain once more. Opening her eyes she saw nothing but never-ending darkness; wherever she was had no lights or windows. Desperately trying to stay calm, Alex ran her fingers along the surface upon which she lay; it was hard, cold, damp, and uneven. Cement? A basement or cellar then. Lovely. Feeling around, she found a nearby wall and pushed herself painfully into a sitting position to assess her situation. Her head hurt, her face stung, she could feel blood trickling from the wound in her side, and she was light-headed. Not good at all. The fever, from which she had recovered so recently, was taking advantage of the frigid conditions and the abrupt end to her antibiotics. On top of all of that, she wore only Erik's shirt and the cold was beginning to seep into her bones. Shivering, she started feeling along the wall to find something to get her off the damp floor. Not having much luck and reaching too far, Alex stretched the abused injury sending sharp, intense pain through her body. As if it broke the last of her tenuous courage, she wrapped her arms around her waist and began to sob.

"Alex? Alex, is that you?" The disembodied voice of the detective cut through her pain and she weakly responded. "Allah be praised, you live! I never saw you so feared the worst. Is Erik with you?"

"N…no, he's not. He's not with…with you?" Her voice shook and she tried not to imagine all the things that could have happened to the man she cared so much for.

"Was he with you when you were taken?" Da'ud, ever the policeman, was trying to work out what had happened. Alex was grateful to the darkness as she felt her cheeks burn.

"No," the whisper sounded weak even to her so she cleared her throat and tried again. "No, he'd gone to investigate the alarm. What happened, Da'ud?"

"I'm not sure." She could hear his frustration as well as something else. Had he been injured again? "I was still getting dressed when they broke into my room. I fought as best I could but wasn't able to do much with this blasted leg. Something got me on the back of my head and I woke up here. By my estimate, we've been here for at least twelve hours if not longer."

"So long?" She coughed then whimpered at the pain.

"What about you, Alex?" The detective was concerned at how weak she sounded. "You sound ill."

"I'm just so c…cold. She hit …hit my side, where I was shot. I…I think it's bleeding again, but can't tell."

"We'll get you to a doctor soon, Alex." The detective's voice was soothing though she could tell he was worried. "I have to ask, though. Before you went unconscious, did you see anything?"

"Ch…Christine," Alex winced as spots began to dance before her eyes. "She burst into the room and we…we had words." God, all she wanted was to sleep the pain away. "I don't know what happened after she arrived; I think one of them hit me on the back of the head because it hurts almost as much as my side. I never saw Erik again, either…he's got to be alright. He just has to…he has to." Whimpering at the pain, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them. "Please, Da'ud, no matter what happens promise me you'll get him out alive."

"Alex, don't talk like that. We're all going to…"

"Promise me, Detective! Please…" Her voice broke on a sob and had to take several deep breaths to regain enough control to speak. "Please. He…he means so much…everything to me. I won't be responsible for his death. Promise…if there is a choice, if only one of us can survive, you will get Erik out of here."

"Alex, I…" He could hear her weeping and her labored breathing and knew that if she didn't get medical help soon there wouldn't be a choice to make. "Allah have mercy on my soul, I promise." The comforting darkness beckoned and, with a whisper of gratitude on her lips, she took refuge in its welcoming embrace from the fear and the pain.

**Oct. 27 – 12:00am**

Erik stood outside the opera house once more, only this time he was entering through the front door. As he'd sped towards the front gate of his Estate, he'd tuned his radio to the guards' frequency and called for reports. When only silence met his call, he sacrificed stealth for speed as he made his way towards the gatehouse. Opening the door, it looked like a slaughterhouse. The guards appeared to have put up a fight, probably explaining the alarm, but were overwhelmed and killed messily. The lack of response on the radio was worrisome; surely they couldn't have all been killed? A brief crackle of static was followed by the weak voice of one of the patrolmen on the eastern perimeter.

"Boss…"

"What happened here?" Erik's voice was harsh but he needed information fast.

"Poison darts…never even saw them." The guard was struggling to breathe. "Alarm…a diversion. Go…the house." The radio fell silent as the man fulfilled his duty for the last time.

Letting loose a string of curses, Erik rushed back to the house though deep in his heart he knew it was too late. Bursting through the front door, the silence of the house sat uneasily on his shoulders. Drawing his weapon, he checked the kitchen and Library before moving to Da'ud's bedroom. The detective had struggled against his captors; there were lamps shattered and on the floor and chairs knocked over. He saw no blood, however, which gave him some hope that his friend still lived. Racing up the stairs, he hesitated outside his bedroom door, frightened of what he would find.

Easing the door open with the barrel of the gun, the first thing he saw was the small pool of blood on the floor. Then, as if calling his name, his eyes were drawn to the envelope and white rose on the bed. Christine. His name was written on the front in her recognizable elegant script. When he picked up the envelope, Erik's hands shook. _What have they done to Alexandra?_ He pulled out the card and unfolded it to stare down at it in shock.

_**You are cordially invited to a  
Masquerade Ball  
A special evening of  
Suspense, Romance, Love and Loss  
on October 27**__**th**_

_**Midnight**_

_**on the main stage of the Opèra Populaire **_

_**Please arrive unaccompanied as a date will be provided for you.**_

_**Mask is required.**_

With so much time to kill, Erik first contacted the Agency to send someone to help with the bodies of the guards. Local police would ask too many questions. He also cashed in some favors and got satellite images faxed to him of both his home and the opera house at the time of the attack. Though unclear, he could make out two bodies being carried out of the house. He only hoped they were merely unconscious. He waited for the agents at the gatehouse and explained what he thought had happened and the clean up crew went to work. Over the next couple of weeks or so, these men would appear in the obituaries having died of everything from food poisoning to car accidents.

At 10:00pm, Erik was sitting a block away and watching the building through a pair of binoculars. It wasn't ideal; he preferred night vision goggles but the street lights rendered them useless. He knew that going into that building was signing his own death warrant but what could he do? Alexandra was merely a pawn in all this and deserved to live the rest of her life in peace. Da'ud, having saved his life from Christine in the past, was now to be repaid in kind. Fitting end for a monster; killed by the very angel he once aspired to attain. Time passed slowly. At five minutes to midnight, Erik approached the abandoned opera house. Christine was waiting for him at the door and motioned him inside while she closed and locked the entrance. With a rueful quirk of his lips, he thought of the words to the song he sang to seduce his Alexandra. _Past the point of no return…no going back now…_ How appropriate they seemed now.

* * *

**A/N:** I realize I'm updating super quick but I'm excited to know what you all think of how it ends. Innocent Deceptions will be running for a bit, updated more slowly as it's not completed like this one, and I have one more in the brain-storming phase. And, no, you can't kill me for having them captured XD That particular aspect of the story was actually the first thing I thought of and built the rest of the story around it. :D


	40. Chapter 39 Part II

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 39 - Continued  
**

**Oct. 27 – 1:00am**

Time passed strangely in the dark, cold cell; Erik couldn't be certain if he'd been there hours or days. His arms were stretched above him by shackles that were suspended from the ceiling. His shirt and weapons had long since been removed, as well as his belt and shoe laces; anything he could possibly use as a weapon. Since Christine had learned from him, trained with him, she knew where to find even the best concealed weapons. Her lover and master torturer had wanted to leave the mask on the prisoner; however, Christine removed it and showed him the needle-like razor that was skillfully hidden in the lining. For the first time since he'd known her, Erik felt nothing when she shuddered at his unmasked face. She could no longer hold a place in a heart filled with Alexandra's acceptance and love. He found it ironic that the moment he had something to live for was when he stood his best chance of dying. He'd known the moment he walked through the opera house doors that he'd not leave unless it was in a body bag. His only regret was not telling Alexandra how much she meant to him. When he closed his eyes, he could block out the pain, the cold and see nothing but her red hair spread in beautiful contrast across his black satin pillowcase. The sting of the whip became her nails as they scraped up his back in ecstasy. The taunting words of his once-angel from having seen those marks faded into Alexandra's pleasure filled moans. Unaware he'd whispered her name; he was jolted back to the present when a bucket of salt water was poured down his back. His memories were replaced by cold, ice blue eyes that hid a demon inside the body of an angel.

"Oh, Erik, you really should get your mind out of your trousers. I'm sure she was a good enough fuck but you know I could please you so much better." Christine trailed her fingers down his bare chest wet with water, sweat, and blood. Leaning forward, she trailed her tongue over a scar to flick one of his nipples hardened by the cold. When his only response was to attempt to dodge her touch, she slapped him hard and growled. "I will have you again, Erik Devereaux. Before this is all over, you will be mine once more."

Hanging loosely from the shackles to preserve his strength, Erik finally focused his gaze on his tormentor and smirked. Letting his golden eyes drift slowly down her body then back again, his face revealed his utter disinterest in anything she had to offer. Watching the fury build in her eyes was worth the crack of the whip across his back. Incensed, Christine grabbed a steel pipe and swung it like a baseball bat right into his stomach. The air exploded from his lungs and a large welt was already rising at the point of impact. But still, he remained silent. Holding his gaze with a smirk of her own, his former lover motioned to his tormentor. Immediately, he felt something hot approaching his lacerated skin and braced for the pain. It took all he had not to scream when the red-hot poker was laid flat across his back, cauterizing the whip marks and searing his skin. Only her eager smile stopped the sound in his throat; he'd be damned if he gave her the satisfaction.

"I can see your tolerance for pain hasn't lessened, maestro," Christine purred in his ear. Laying her hand across the whipped and burned flesh on his back, she laid her head on his shoulder like a lover. "I suppose you are trying to be noble. You always were the one hindered by morals." Pulling a remote control from her pocket, she turned on a hidden monitor showing the interior of a pitch black cell. Another button switched the camera to night-vision and, in the shades of green, Erik could make out the shivering form of Alexandra. "She's been ill recently has she not? Official word is the flu but we know better don't we, my love?" Leaning closer until her lips brushed his ear, she whispered softly, "I know who shot your little whore, Erik. If I tell you, will you be a good boy?"

His golden eyes never strayed from the monitor. In some distant part of his brain, he noticed that she was wearing his shirt and thought she looked far better in it than he ever had. From what he could see in the poor quality of the camera, it was all she was wearing and it did little to stave off the cold seeping from the cement floor and into her bones. Not trusting Christine in the least, Erik nevertheless gritted through his teeth, "Who?"

"Now, now, you know that's not how we play that game." Moving around to stand in front of him once more, she smiled as she grabbed him through his trousers, gripping painfully when he tried to move away.

"What do you want, Ms. Daae?" Erik was thankful for the cold and the pain for he'd never forgive himself if he responded to her unwanted touch. Laughing, she stepped back and began unbuttoning her shirt.

"You know what I want," the shirt was tossed aside followed by her shoes and pants. Standing before him in only her lacy underwear, she slowly advanced on him and pressed her body to his. "You know you want me; you've always wanted me. Forget the whore, Erik, and stay here with me. What was it you said once? Share with me one love, one lifetime? I can't offer you love but I can offer you a lifetime of pleasure."

Staring down at her nearly naked form, Erik felt nothing but disgust. He could tell how aroused she was and he knew it wasn't because of him. Christine had fallen in love with power and that was what had her panting like a dog in heat. "And what of your little boy toy? Won't he object?" He deliberately put all the disdain he felt for the boy in his voice knowing he would hear.

"You mean Raoul?" Her angelic laughter echoed in the hellish room. "Oh no, love. You see, once I have you, I'll give your little whore to him. He's been fascinated by her for a while, you know. But don't worry, I'll be nice and let you watch."

White hot fury exploded in his brain. Holding onto the chains of his shackles, Erik lifted himself up enough to wrap his legs around Christine's lovely neck. Exhausted and in severe pain, Erik still had enough strength left to snap her neck with the proper leverage. Unfortunately, his torturer was still nearby. Suddenly, the biting hooks of a taser sank into his back and the jolts of electricity caused him to loosen his grip enough for her to twist free. Humiliated by his continued rejection, Christine grabbed her clothes and stormed out of the cell. The chuckle from behind him was cold enough to freeze the blood in his veins. As the man began to circle him to plan his next strike, Erik finally saw the one who'd dished out so much pain.

"Raoul de Chagny, I presume?"

"But of course. Who else would it be?" At the uncomprehending stare, Raoul threw a fist into Erik's kidney. "Don't you know who I am, monster? Don't you?" Each screamed question was accompanied by another jab to his kidney and Erik knew that, if he did make it out alive, he'd be pissing blood for several days. "Fifteen years ago, you entered our village with nothing on your mind except for murder. You hunted your prey, stalked him, made his life miserable while he waited for you to strike. And when you did, like the coward you are, you shot him from 100 meters away. Shot him as he stood by the side of his swimming pool with his family watching. His wife had to scrape her husband's brains from her hair; she had to be committed to a psychiatric hospital before the year was out. His daughter, who had been celebrating her fifteenth birthday that day, overdosed on heroin within six months. And his son, who was only seventeen, vowed that if it was the last thing he ever did, he'd make sure that Le Fantôme paid for murdering of his family."

"Stanislav Mikhailovich Zakharov." Erik couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "Eldest son of Mikhail Zakharov, the largest cocaine dealer and sex slave smuggler in the former Soviet Union. You were the one who lured Christine to turn traitor to the Agency and to betray me."

"Oh yes, Devereaux." The smug grin on Raoul's...or rather, Stanislav's face taunted Erik. "I knew how badly you'd fallen for your _angel _and I also knew how badly she lusted for power. We were just waiting for an opportunity to present itself. I would get my vengeance and she would share in the running of my father's empire. Too bad that Persian fellow screwed everything up; we'll just have to remedy that."

As the torturer advanced on Erik with the glowing blade of a red-hot knife, the door opened and one of the guards from his 'haunting' entered. The conversation, spoken in Russian, flowed too quickly for Erik's pain-fogged mind to follow. Stanislav didn't appear pleased with whatever news the man brought him and stalked out the door yelling for Christine.

* * *

A/N: Don't you all just love these two? XD Things will be wrapping up soon and I'm saddened by that as I really like these characters. Review if you're so inclined and burn an effigy of Stanislav/Raoul in my name!

Note: Unsure about common practice today as most of my knowledge on Russian naming practices focus on the Middle Ages. Mikhailovich means "son of Mikhail." The Russians used patronymics (as well as place names) as middle names which were used only by close friends or family. Thus, a stranger might call this man "Stanislav" while Christine would call him Mikhailych or Mischych for short.


	41. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the POTO characters.

**Chapter 40**

**Oct. 27 – 2:00am**

It could have been minutes or days when light flooded the room and jolted Alex back to consciousness. Though her pain had lessened, in its place she felt disoriented and like her head was full of cotton balls. As if from a distance, she saw a man open the barred door and pull her to her feet by her hair. She knew there was pain but she seemed apart from it. Alex heard Da'ud's concerned voice and tried to tell him she was alright, that she didn't hurt any more, but that seemed to upset him more instead of comfort him. She was half-dragged up several flights of stairs until she faded out of consciousness and was tossed over a shoulder roughly. When she faded back in, she saw that they were in a large room with lots of seats. Sluggishly, she realized they were standing on a stage of an old decrepit theater. A voice called to her and she frowned. She knew that voice. It was so very beautiful that it surely must belong to an angel. Had she died?

"Angel? Oh Angel, I'm so sorry." She hardly knew what she was saying in her delirium. "So…so sorry." She swayed on her feet and was steadied with painful fingers in her hair.

Christine chuckled softly at the pain on Erik's face. '_So, he does feel something for the little tramp after all. How…delicious_.' She circled him slowly as he stood before her wearing only the skin tight pants of his body suit. Oh yes, Stanislav had some fun with the masked man. New whip scars had been added to the ones he'd received all those many years ago. Ironic that they came from the same man. Even beaten and bloodied he was still an amazing specimen of masculinity...if you could ignore that disgusting face of his. She ran her fingertips lightly along his shoulders and back remembering how it felt to be held by him. He was a considerate lover; always putting his partner's needs before his own unlike the Russian who sought his own pleasure and left her panting in frustration. No matter; he was beginning to bore her anyway. But Erik? It sent a chill down her spine to think of all he must have learned in her absence.

"What do you want, Ms. Daae?" Erik ground through clenched teeth never taking his eyes off Alex. What had they done to her? A throaty laugh grated along his spine. He had once loved her laugh but now it was tainted by her betrayal and his growing anger.

"Now, Erik, surely after all we've been to each other you can leave off the formalities?" Stepping so close their bodies were nearly touching, Christine ran her hands down his chest to dip beneath his waist band. "You know what I want," she cooed softly as she stroked him. "You've always known what I wanted." With a growl, he yanked her hands up and away from his body, earning him a snap of a whip across his back from Raoul.

"That, Ms. Daae, is something you will never have again." Erik hissed through his teeth as he wiped his hands down his pants legs as if he'd touched something dirty.

"You think that's so, _Monsieur Le Fantôme_?" Christine sneered. Stepping off to the side, she motioned for Da'ud and Alex to be brought forward as she took a pistol from Stanislav. Removing the magazine, she showed it to him before snapping it back into the weapon and chambering the single round.

"This gun has exactly one bullet as you have seen. It is instrumental in a choice you must make, my love." As she handed the weapon to Erik, her smile radiated pure evil and the thrill of the power she held over the lives of these three people. "Choose to walk away and you will be allowed to take but one of these lovely people with you. The other, sadly, must be killed with that weapon and by your hand. If you refuse to make a choice, then they both die and you will know the true meaning of pain. Or…you return to where you belong: by my side, in my bed, and following my orders. You will voluntarily work with and for me, and only me, and your little friends will live. Oh, we'll have to keep them of course; I won't risk losing my collateral. You won't be able to see or talk to them, well I may let you watch Stanislav play with your little whore, but they will live as long as you hold up your end of the bargain."

Da'ud stared at Erik in wide-eyed horror. He knew his friend could never live with the outcome of such a decision. It would slowly tear him apart if he had to either kill one of his friends or become a traitor to his country and himself. When Erik's tormented eyes fell on his oldest and best friend, the detective nodded slightly. Though he wasn't ready to die just yet, he'd not allow the masked man to kill the remainder of his soul. He watched as that golden gaze turned to the woman who'd been a part of their lives for such a short time. He could see the tenderness as well as the fear and pain and knew he was making the right decision. Pushing aside his own fear, he stood up straight to face his death with dignity when he saw Alex step forward.

"Erik…" her voice sounded strange to her ears and she wondered if she had much longer regardless of Christine's sick choice. Oh, how she longed to feel Erik's arms around her just once more but that was not meant to be. "D…don't sacrifice yourself or…or your friend. I have n…no family, no one who will miss me. Do what…what's right and t...tear free from the past." As she took another step toward the man she loved, the guard gave her hair a vicious tug to hold her in place. Using all her strength and self-defense training, she threw her elbow into his solar plexus and then grabbed his wrist with both hands. Tugging sharply, she dropped her feet under her. The guard, not expecting the feverish woman to attempt anything, was pulled off balance and tumbled forward discharging the weapon in his other hand as he fell.

Taking advantage of the situation, Erik grabbed the whip in Stanislav's hand and pulled him around in front of him just as the man watching Da'ud fired his weapon. Dropping the now useless meat shield, Erik used his single bullet on the man who was rising from Alex's unmoving and bleeding body. He smiled in grim satisfaction as the bullet penetrated the man's skull and exited in a spray of blood and gore. The detective, though injured, managed to wrestle his guard to the ground and they fought for control of his weapon. Just as he was weakening, Da'ud saw a knife sticking out of the man's boot. Pulling it free, he sliced his opponent's arm before burying the blade to the hilt in the man's chest. Prying the gun from the guard's fingers, he looked for hidden threats as he crawled towards Alex.

Erik had known hatred many times in his life: for his unknown mother who could so callously abandon her own flesh and blood, for the priests whose ignorance and superstition made his childhood a living hell, and for the terrorists who had killed the only man Erik would ever think of as a father. Yes, he'd known hatred but never before had it burned with such white-hot intensity as what he now felt for the woman he once loved. He'd been called a monster all his life but, looking into her beautiful unrepentant face, he saw what a true monster really was. She had offered him a choice that no one could have made and emerge unscarred. When he took his eyes off her to risk a glance at Alex, Christine took advantage of his momentary distraction and darted for the door. She had made it only a few steps when the whip so recently used upon Erik's back wrapped around her neck. She knew fear as she gazed into his molten amber eyes and tried to soothe his anger.

"I did it all for you, Erik! I love you, I've always loved you. I wanted you back…" her voice faltered as he pulled on the whip and drew her closer.

"How appropriate that your last words reflect your true nature so very well. I am no longer blinded by your false beauty and your lies; say hello to your lover in hell, Ms. Daae." With a sharp tug and a muffled snap, Christine fell to the ground at his feet.

Dropping the whip, he turned towards Alex and his heart jumped into his throat. Erik rushed to her side and gently gathered her into his arms. Her breathing was so shallow and there was so much blood, too much to come from her old injury. As he brushed her hair from her brow, his fingers came away red. Frantically he searched for the wound and saw a long, bloody furrow along the side of her head. Da'ud had found a cell phone on one of the guards and called for an ambulance; they could hear the sirens drawing closer when Alex's eyes fluttered open.

"Erik…" Her whisper was so faint he had to lean forward to hear. "B…be happy. You deserve it." Her hand gripped his tightly, desperately as she struggled to finish what she needed to say. "You're so won…wonderful and I…oh how I'll miss you, my love." With a sob, her eyes drifted closed as her hand fell limply to her side. As the ambulance crew rushed in with a gurney, Erik screamed his pain and anguish to the heavens. Was he cursed to always lose those he loved?

* * *

**A/N:** Well, almost done; just an epilogue left to tie up the loose strings. Thank you all for reading my first foray into fan fiction! Review if you feel so inclined, trot over to Innocent Deceptions if you want, but try not to lay any evil curses on my head until you finish the story...the chicken blood stains :P


	42. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own any PotO characters.

**Chapter 41**

**November 7, 7:00am**

The steady beeps and hums from the various machines no longer kept him awake at night. Amazing what one can get used to over time. He awoke when a nurse bustled in to check the monitors. Glancing at the bed, she shook her head and scribbled a few notes on a chart before rushing back out again. Erik noticed her eyes never rose to his face. True, he hadn't bothered with a mask while at the hospital and that seemed to unnerve a few of the staff. Still, he had expected more compassion. Once it would have angered him to see people so obvious in their avoidance of his face; now, he simply couldn't find the energy to care. The door opened again to admit his old friend, Da'ud, who hobbled in on crutches. Awkwardly pulling up a chair, the detective sank into it and looked at his friend in concern.

"Erik, how are you holding up?"

"How do you think, _Daroga_?" He passed a weary hand across his eyes and gazed at the monitors once more. Had one changed rhythm? "I hate hospitals, you know that, but I can't leave. Not yet." Da'ud nodded sadly as his worry for his friend grew. There had been torment and anguish in those amber orbs when Christine had betrayed him but now there was nothing. No anger, no pain, no sadness just…nothing.

"I talked to a couple of friends in the Agency. They let it leak to the press that rival gangs had used the old opera house as neutral territory to settle a score. That should stop any awkward questions. Also, I gave them a copy of the thumb drive and all the papers. With the coordinates and a satellite photo, they can confirm if the facility remains in operation." Erik's eyes flashed with the only hint of life he'd seen in almost two weeks.

"I want to be there when they move on it, _Daroga_. I must see it to the end; I owe her that much." Though buried deep, any thought of Alex immediately brought the agony to the surface. Da'ud wished he could help but knew Erik needed time, time and family.

"Angelique and Meg called again. They really want to see you, my friend."

"I know but I don't know if I can face them, not after what I've done. I swore I'd never hurt a woman but I never even hesitated once I had her in my grip."

"And a good thing, too!" Angelique Giry stood in the doorway of the hospital room looking every inch the stern, forbidding ballet mistress. The years had been kind to her since the death of her husband. Her hair showed only the slightest hint of grey and her face bore few lines that revealed her age. Watching the young man she'd raised torture himself over one she'd be happy to kill herself, however, broke her heart. Gracefully, she glided across the room to sit by Erik. "Stop beating yourself up over that she-snake, child, she isn't worth your peace of mind. She offered you a choice that left you damned no matter what you did. And then, when it all went tits up on her, she tried to twist the love you had for her to her advantage. You've wasted too much of your life over that damned harpy; let it go." Leaning over, she pulled Erik into a tight hug. "_Comment allez vous, mon fils_?"

"_Je ne sais pas, maman. Elle est toute que j'ai_." Holding onto the only mother he'd ever known, Erik felt young, alone, and scared once more. He wept silently against her shoulder; his fear too great to hide from her. Angelique held him tighter and stroked his hair until his tears slowed, her heart breaking to hear his pain. Slowly, the the numbness returned to protect his heart enough to stop the tears. Erik whispered his thanks as they pulled apart, embarrassed that Da'ud had witnessed him breaking down like a child. The room fell silent as everyone took a moment to get their emotions under control.

"Erik?" The voice that broke the silence was one Erik feared he'd never hear again. Rushing to the bed, he tenderly stroked her cheek and made no effort to stop or hide the fresh tears that rolled down his face.

"Alexandra…_Ne m'effrayez pas comme cela encore, ma petite_." He held her hand to his lips. "Please do not scare me again, _ma chère_."

Erik never noticed when Angelique and Da'ud slipped quietly out of the room to give the couple some privacy. He could do nothing but stare into the pale green eyes that he loved so much. He'd known he loved her during their one beautiful night together but was reluctant to admit it to himself for fear of getting hurt yet again. And then he watched her risk her life to keep him from having to make such an inhumane decision and he knew he would be nothing without her by his side for always. When she tried to talk, he laid a finger gently across her lips and shook his head.

"Shhh, hush now, _ma petite chère_, and save your strength. We will talk about it later but for now you must rest." His soft chuckle at her irritated frown was mixed with tears of relief and he couldn't resist placing the softest of kisses on her cheek. The smile that played on her lips was like a balm to his soul and, when she drifted into sleep, it wasn't the comatose slumber of the past two weeks. Reluctant to leave her side, Erik nevertheless brushed the hair from her brow before rising to ring for the doctor. He explained that she'd awakened and said his name then protested when he was driven from the room so the doctor could examine her more thoroughly. Angelique was waiting outside the door and guided him to a seat in the lobby to prevent his bursting into the room and interrupting the doctor. Numb, he held a cup of the awful hospital coffee while trying to absorb the fact that Alex was awake. Only after the doctor had approached and reassured him that she was on her way to recovery did Erik allow his mother to take him home to get some rest. Though he protested the whole way, he was asleep almost before his body hit the bed. That night he dared to dream of a future with the one he loved.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, that's it for this little adventure. I admit to being torn between putting this up quickly and waiting until the end of the week just to be mean XD There is the outline of a sequel rattling around in my brain since there are quite a few loose ends to tie up still. Let me know if you'd like to see that or if you're good and sick of these two. Thank you all again so very much for your kind reviews, it was a joy to read them.

Translations:

_Comment allez vous, mon fils_? - How are you, my son

_Je ne sais pas, maman. __Elle est toute que j'ai_. - I don't know, mother, She is everything to me._  
_

_Ne m'effrayez pas comme cela encore, ma petite - _Don't scare me like that again, little one._  
_


End file.
